Chapter 21 #2
Val groaned. “You’re no fun.” He received a light slap on the arm. “Fine. I’m going to try to access the keycard logs for the storage archives. If we can find who scanned their keycard by the archives around the time Lake Attersee was put in storage, it may give us some direction.”
“Do the keycard logs show employee names?”
“Yes, but I’m going to have to download a different database, so it might take some time.”
“It’s a start. Keep up the good work, detective.” I kissed Val swiftly on the cheek, smacked his butt, and left the closet.
Before the door closed, I heard his surprised laugh.
As I scurried away, I saw Rick’s blue jumpsuit across the Vanderbilt hall, a broom and dustpan in his hands. He gave a comical wink and cheeky salute.
I chuckled and waved back.
By the end of the work day, I had finished my tasks. Val’s closet kisses had inspired me, making Stirling’s biography and sculpture descriptions flow from my fingertips. My phone lit up.
VAL: Dinner tonight? My place at six?
AMANTHA: Sounds perfect.
The outside door unlatched after Val buzzed me into his apartment building.
“152… 152…” The horde of butterflies in my stomach wasn’t behaving as I searched for his apartment.
I was beyond excited to see into Val’s world, the way he had into mine.
I fiddled with the hem of my oversized pink t-shirt and picked a teeny ball of lint off the black leggings I had changed into after work.
The butterflies swarmed faster as I knocked, and the door instantly swung open.
Val rested a brawny forearm against the doorframe and lifted an eyebrow. “Fancy seeing you here, Adams.” The crinkly smile he gave me felt like a cashmere blanket wrapping around my heart.
I forced an eye roll, though I couldn’t help beaming. “Shut up, Russo.”
He hooked an arm around me, pulled me inside, and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Give me a sec and I’ll show you around.”
Val walked away down the narrow hallway, which gave me ample time to check him out. Although he wore a simple white t-shirt and gray sweats, he could have worn a trash bag with those glutes and I’d still be drooling.
The scent of garlic and spices guided me into the kitchen after him.
Val stood in front of the stove, stirring a thick, red bolognese sauce.
The open concept kitchen, dining, and living room were sleek and modern but somehow felt cozy.
Although the rooms had a masculine touch, the two throw pillows I spotted on his couch made me want to tease him the way he had about mine.
“Val, this smells incredible. I would never have guessed you could cook.” I walked into the kitchen and leaned my backside against the six-foot marble island.
Val laughed as he stirred. “What? You think a handsome bachelor can’t throw a few ingredients together? You know that’s sexist, right?”
“Handsome? You know that’s cocky, right?” My eyes widened as he turned, wrapped his hands around my waist, and lifted me onto the kitchen island. His arms bracketed my hips as he gripped the counter.
I flatlined. All systems down.
“Why must you always insist on calling me cocky, Adams?”
It took every ounce of willpower not to glance at the perfect arch of his lips. Instead, I stared back into his chestnut eyes only inches from mine. “Because you are.”
Val pushed off the counter and feigned a sigh. “Impossible.” He turned back to the stove, adding over his shoulder, “You’ll regret ever saying that once you taste it.”
He dipped a fresh spoon into the sauce and brought it to his mouth in a borderline seductive way. “Mmm.” He hummed in satisfaction, completely unaware that I was practically drooling behind him, and it wasn’t remotely for the food.
Apparently, a man cooking really did it for me.
“This is almost done. After I drain the pasta, I’ll give you the tour—Wait, where are you going?”
I was already headed down a hallway lined with doors. “To invade your privacy. It’s one of my special skills.”
Val snorted. “You put that on your resume?”
“Not that you would know!” I called back with a smirk.
I started with the doorway at the end of the hall. I found an infuriatingly clean and organized home office, complete with a leather couch.
Do you even live here, Val?
The adjacent doorway turned out to be a bathroom with a gorgeous, glass-enclosed shower. A rainfall shower head jutted from the ceiling. Again, spotlessly clean. I swung open another door and stopped short.
Val’s bedroom was dark and moody, with illuminated bronze sconces on each side of the oak headboard. An enormous bed was bookended by two nightstands. Thick, charcoal bedding begged me to curl up in it. In the corner, a black armchair and reading lamp sat beside a small bookshelf.
Allowing myself in, I wandered the room. The bookshelf was littered with picture frames.
“See, Russo? You are sentimental, you just don’t want people to know.”
A gorgeous, gilded family portrait was filled with dark-haired, olive-skinned people. I recognized his two nephews from the photo in his office.
I picked up a shiny silver frame and instantly recognized Stella’s light blonde curls.
A beautiful, fitted wedding dress flared out past her hips as a beaming, happier version of Val held her hand.
They walked out of a chapel lined with cheering guests as Stella thrust her triumphant bouquet against the azure sky.
My chest tightened. I couldn’t imagine loving someone so much and losing them in such a painful way. I ached for his loss. However, my usual sympathy was suddenly accompanied by a strange new emotion.
A twinge of jealousy rippled through me.
Around me, at least, Val had never worn an expression like that. Like he didn’t have a care in the world, only admiration for the woman beside him.
If Stella and Val had been meant for each other, where did that leave me?
“Hey.” Val’s velvety voice interrupted as he poked his head in. His jaw tightened a fraction as he saw the picture in my hand. His steps were slow as he approached and encircled my waist from behind.
I forced a cheery tone. “You look so cute.”
“Thanks. It was a special day, for sure.”
I nodded, still staring into Stella’s blue eyes.
Val squeezed a little tighter. “Are you ready to eat?” His lips brushed a tentative kiss across my cheek.
“Yes.” I set Stella back on the shelf and tried to leave my insecurities there too.
The pasta turned out to be insanely delicious. My instinct to eat like a lady and do that weird smile-nod-chew thing behind my hand thing warred with a primal urge to devour the entire dish. My primal side won out.
“See?” Val said, indignantly. “I told you!”
I laughed and wiped my face with a napkin. “Okay. You win. You’re definitely the most talented, cocky chef I know.”
“You need to work on your compliments, but I’ll take it. Oh, I forgot to tell you that I downloaded the keycard records,” he said.
“You did? What did you find?”
“A whole lot of nothing. The logs are difficult to read, and I can’t figure out which information is for the service elevator to the basement storage rooms. That’s the only keycard access point that even matters.” Val took another bite.
“The service elevator? What about the keycard scanner for the actual archives?”
“There aren’t any. Those rooms don’t have one,” he said.
“Rooms? How many are there?”
Val’s face screwed up in concentration.“I’ve only been down there a handful of times, but I think there were three different storage rooms. The service elevator opens into a hall with three doors, each of whose locks require a four digit code that changes almost daily.”
“So the logs show whose keycard was scanned for the elevator, but there isn’t any way to see who went in the storage rooms?”
“Correct.” Val leaned against his chair, blowing out a sigh. “If we could find the exact date that Attersee got admitted into storage, I could streamline my search a little.”
My brows furrowed. “How in the world do we not have that information?”
“The storage logging software only locates which room and section the art is being stored in. Not the date it was admitted.”
“What about the condition reports? They have dates. There should be one from when it was taken down from the last exhibition…” My words sped with inspiration. “Which would be the same day it got logged into storage!” Flushed with excitement, I met Val’s amused look.
“You are way too into this, Adams.”
“Get on my level, Russo! We're not gonna solve the case with that attitude.”
He laughed, then aimed a contemplative expression at nothing in particular.
“You’re right though. We've gotta find that condition report,” he said.
“Before the gala, Kendra put me in charge of writing the condition report for Attersee once it was unboxed. But we need the condition report before mine.”
“Shouldn’t that be an easy find?”
Val shrugged and said, “It should be. But I get a sense that none of this will be as easy as it seems. Our organizational system isn’t the best, and there’s been more than a few human errors over the years.”
“We’ll find it,” I assured him. “I mean, if you were Kendra—”
“Or Blythe.”
“Or Kendra.”
A surge of irritation flared my nostrils.
I glowered at his smirk and continued. “Wouldn’t it make sense to steal the original Attersee after it got taken down, but before it got logged into storage?
The painting would have had to acclimate in the storage room before the crate could even be shut.
Forty-eight hours would be more than enough time to replace it with a forgery. ”
“That’s a great point.”
“I wonder which room it was stored in,” I said.
“When the handlers brought the box up from storage before the gala, I saw a label with the number one on it.”
“So it was stolen from the first room?”
“It's possible.” Val grinned. “Hey, we’re getting pretty good at this, Watson.”
“Watson?” I scoffed. “You mean Sherlock. There’s no way I’m your sidekick.”
Val chuckled, his dark gaze sweeping over me. “Fine. I must say, you make a very beautiful Sherlock.”
I blushed, glanced at the floor, and tucked a wavy lock behind my ear.
Val positively beamed.
After dinner, I helped Val clean the kitchen. I loved doing something normal, domestic even, with him by my side. My mouth ran dry at the sight of Val’s strong forearms covered in soapy bubbles. What could I say? The homesteading version of Val was beyond sexy.
“How about a couple episodes of Whisper Harbor?” Val asked as he loaded the last dish and pressed a button on the dishwasher.
“Say less.” I wandered over, sinking onto his luxurious, cream-colored couch. It felt like being hugged by a fluffy suede cloud. I couldn’t hold back my satisfied sigh. “Um, why does this couch feel so amazing?”
“Because you don’t even own one. How would you know?”
“Again, I do own one.” I laughed. “And nice throw pillows, by the way.”
Val dodged the pillow I chucked at him before grabbing a fleece blanket and dimming the lights. Then he nestled behind me and enveloped me in his arms. Laying my cheek against his warm bicep, I found Stella’s tattoo a few centimeters from my face.
The whirring dishwasher, the theme song of Whisper Harbor, and the quiet darkness almost made Val’s apartment feel like home.
My full belly and his breathing chest against my back began to convince my eyes to flutter closed.
Before I drifted off, I cracked one eyelid and was again met with Val’s inked promise to love Stella forever.
I squeezed my eyes shut.