Chapter Fourteen
Harlow, Shabina and Rainier entered the Grill using Alek Donovan’s private entrance.
The door led into the massive kitchen Alek had just renovated along with the interior of the restaurant.
Shabina kept turning around to inspect the kitchen so much, instead of walking forward, following Alek, that Rainier had to grab her shoulders and put her in front of him to keep her moving.
“The kitchen wasn’t touched,” Alek announced. “I don’t know if they were spooked and made a run for it before they did more damage, but they completely destroyed one wall of the diner, all the artwork on it and four of the table-and-chair sets closest to that wall.”
Alek had called Harlow early that morning, waking her from a sound sleep, so upset she couldn’t understand him.
He wanted her to come to the Grill right then.
Someone had broken in and splashed paint over his walls and the consigned artwork.
She managed to talk him into waiting before touching anything, saying she would come immediately but was bringing Rainier with her.
Even as she assured Alek, she could see Wilder didn’t like that he wasn’t accompanying her.
“You can’t risk being seen,” she told him, calling out from the shower.
That water pouring down in the shower hadn’t deterred him in the least. He’d joined her and made it very clear that she needed to be with him.
Even after making his feelings perfectly clear, Wilder solemnly handed her clothes and watched her dress.
“Stop looking pathetic. Alek is a dear friend and totally in distress. He’s married and very much in love with his wife.”
“I get it,” Wilder said. “But I swear, this is the last time you’re going somewhere important without me. And you wait for Rainier. He said he’d be here in ten. He’s not a man to be late.”
She had kissed him. Even when he talked tough, he was still the best man she knew.
She’d take him every single time. Now she watched Rainier gently maneuver Shabina through the kitchen.
The look on his face was priceless when he didn’t think an enemy was close.
Harlow was pretty sure that when she looked at Wilder she mirrored that goofy, in-love expression Rainier wore looking at Shabina.
Alek hadn’t seen any of the byplay between them.
He’d barely greeted them before abruptly turning away to lead them through the kitchen.
Still, she’d caught a glimpse of his face etched with deep lines of worry.
She had grown up with people despising her, which included her parents, so she had become somewhat immune to this kind of situation.
Alek was used to everyone liking him. He was a kind man.
A fair one. This had to be a terrible shock. He didn’t have enemies.
Shabina stopped abruptly, and Rainier halted with her, his arms wrapping around her to pull her into the shelter of his body.
“Alek,” Shabina whispered.
Harlow started forward to get around Rainier in order to see what had Shabina in such shock when fingers formed a shackle around her bicep. She swung around, one palm going up defensively.
“It’s just me, Harlow,” Sam’s voice informed her. She recognized that voice before she did him. That was how startled she was.
“Would you please make noise when you’re sneaking up on someone?” she demanded.
Sam raised an eyebrow. “If I’m sneaking, I’m not supposed to make a sound.”
“You took ten years off my life,” she accused. “And I’m certain my hair’s gone gray in just these last few seconds.”
“You were never the drama queen sort,” he said. “Zahra, yes, Stella can be one, but not you, Harlow. I appreciate the try.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Alek is a good friend. He called me. I was headed this way early to take a dog to the vet. That’s where Stella is.”
“Oh no, is the dog going to be all right? Which one?”
“I’ll tell you about that later. Wilder called, saying you were going to be here with Rainier and Shabina. He asked me to fill in for him. I’m going to do that, but bottom line, woman, you should have called me.”
“Did it possibly occur to you that I’ll be just fine?”
“Lots of things happening right now, Harlow. You lean on family. That’s what I am to you.”
Sam, in his gentle, low voice, was laying down the law. She’d heard him use that voice on Stella. Stella never recognized it as Sam’s bottom line, that whatever she said or did after that point meant he would pick her up and carry her to bed. Stella always seemed perfectly fine with Sam’s methods.
“Thanks for coming. Wilder is very upset that he’s not with me,” she conceded. If Sam’s presence alleviated Wilder’s worries and made Sam feel as if he was doing something for her, she had no problem giving them both the concession. She felt bad for Alek, but she didn’t think she needed comfort.
And then Rainier stepped aside, and she was staring straight into the restaurant Alek had spent a fortune on renovating.
The long length of the southern wall had been covered in artwork from many of the premier or up-and-coming artists living in Knightly.
The photograph Alek had acquired from Harlow, titled Frost and Venom, had been flanked by two of the newer artists showcasing their work.
One painting on canvas was of a beautiful blue heron walking on long legs in the canal.
Edward Fenton had painted it. On the other side of her photograph was another painting on canvas done by a local artist, Georgette Les Paul, a rather famous artist who sold at some of the most prestigious galleries in New York and Chicago.
There were six other local artists of varying talents that Alek had displayed on the same wall.
Two tall pedestals were set up on either end of the wall, exhibiting Tom and Judy’s pottery.
Broken glass and cases littered the floor.
Whoever had vandalized the building had smashed the protective cases holding the paintings.
The pedestals had been overturned and the pottery smashed.
Black paint had been thrown over the artwork and the newly painted wall.
The paint was thick and ran down the wall in muddy rivers to the floor to pool in what appeared, to Harlow’s artistic mind, to be heavy lava flows.
Four of the tables closest to the wall were smashed, along with their wooden chairs. The wooden debris lay in the path of the thick, slow-flowing paint. Parts of the table and chairs were already covered with the paint, while others were barely touched.
Harlow removed her camera and stepped around Sam, Rainier and Shabina in order to focus on the lavalike flow of paint down the wall to the floor.
She kept a distance, not wanting to muddy the crime scene, but the entire site had to be photographed.
It was a compulsion with her. She didn’t look at Alek or the others, just took as many pictures as possible from every angle she could without getting near the mess.
“I’m so sorry, Harlow,” Alek said. “Your beautiful photograph has been completely destroyed. And look at the others.” He gestured toward the ruined canvas paintings. It was impossible to see what was under that thick black paint.
Harlow was already working on another photograph of Frost and Venom, but the canvas paintings were one of a kind. It would be a devastating blow to the artists Alek had on display in his restaurant.
“I don’t understand why someone would do this.” Alek dropped his head into his hands.
“Did you call the sheriff?” Sam asked.
“I did. They haven’t sent anyone over yet.” Alek gestured, taking in the entire room. “I should be grateful they ran out after just destroying this wall. They came prepared to do a lot more damage. There are three other paint cans in the hall close to the dance floor.”
“That’s good,” Sam said. “Alek, paint cans can be traced. We’ll find who did this.”
“Do you have insurance?” Shabina asked. “We can do fundraisers if needed.”
“I have insurance,” Alek said. “Thanks, Shabina. I knew you’d be one of the first to offer help. When I contacted Sam, Stella reached out immediately as well.”
Harlow let the camera fall around her neck, and she stepped back out of the room.
“What about surveillance? You have security cameras pointed at this wall from several angles. Did you look at them?” She couldn’t imagine that Alek hadn’t.
That would have been the first thing she would have done, and she wasn’t as security conscious as she should be.
“Yes. The lines to the cameras were cut. He knew where they were,” Alek said.
“He must have been in my restaurant enough times that he scoped out where the cameras are. Lawyer installed my entire system for me. At one point, when I told him my idea to display local artists’ works, he did suggest hidden cameras.
I disagreed. I thought so many visible cameras would be a theft deterrent. ”
“I’m so sorry this happened,” Shabina said. “Come into the kitchen, Alek. There’s no point in looking at it. I’ll make you coffee and breakfast. You need to eat something.”
That was Shabina, showing love with her food. Harlow wasn’t certain how she could show support, but she was there.
“Once the sheriff takes the report and pictures for their investigation,” Sam said, “we can organize a cleanup and take stock of what we’ll need to put everything right.”
“Where did you get the chairs and tables?” Harlow asked, taking Alek’s arm to lead him back to the kitchen. “They’re so nice.”
“I noticed them too,” Shabina said. “Those aren’t from a manufacturer.”