After dropping David at the airport, Carter went grocery shopping. He noticed there wasn’t much food at Lila’s house. He ate out so much that sometimes he enjoyed a meal at home or wherever home was. He got everything he needed and headed back to her town house to surprise her. She’d given him an extra key this morning, and that might mean a little more than he wanted it to. But he wasn’t ready to walk away from her just yet.
Lila came charging through the door, threw her purse at the couch and grabbed him in a fierce bear hug, which ended up in a long, sweet kiss. She stepped back and glanced at the apron around his waist.
“What are you doing?”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Fixing supper for us—spaghetti and meatballs, salad and garlic bread and a good Merlot.”
“You know how to cook?”
“Sure. I eat so much in hotels and restaurants that sometimes I like to eat in.”
“You should’ve said something. I can cook, you know.”
He slanted a smile in her direction. “Your refrigerator gives a different message—yogurt, water, butter, something dried up in a bowl that’s unrecognizable.”
She slapped at his chest. “Don’t be critical. I work long hours, and most of the time I just pick something up on the way home.”
He bowed from the waist. “Tonight you’re eating a home-cooked meal and all you have to do is enjoy it.” He glanced toward the dining table. It was set with a linen tablecloth and napkins, and in the center was a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
“You bought flowers. You’re such a sweetheart.” She kissed him slowly and he eventually pushed her away.
“Hold on. Hold on. I cooked the food and we’re going to eat it while it’s nice and hot.”
“You’re hot.” She chuckled, but obediently took her seat at the table.
“We’re celebrating a victory today.” While he put food on the table, he told her the whole story about finding the detonator wire. They conversed all through dinner and he marveled at how easy it was to talk to her. They did the dishes and took their wine to the living room.
“I have some good news, too. Myles said that I don’t have to pay Fox anything until the arson investigator rules on the cause of the fire. He’s making the law firm that Fox hired aware of the situation. At least, I get a breather. The last couple of days my stomach is spinning like clothes in the dryer, going round and round.”
He cupped her face. “Try not to worry. That little wire gives them a very big clue the fire was set.”
“That’s not going to tell them who set the fire, and I’m afraid they’re still going to point the finger at me.”
He gathered her into his arms. “Lila, please don’t torture yourself. They’ll have to have evidence that you set it, like where you bought the detonator, as I’m sure Richards is checking stores right now.”
“What kind of stores?”
“Stores that sell that type of device. David says it’s more used by teenagers who are trying to make a statement. It’s small with a timer on it and shoots out a blast of fire. David said they tried to get them off the market but failed. They’re causing too many fires because they are so easy to use. And there’s no way they can connect you to a detonator.”
She raised her face to look at his. “You have a lot of trust in me.”
“I can read people, and you, my lady, are as innocent and honest as they come.”
She gave a comforting laugh and nestled into him, and it felt so good and right at that moment that he couldn’t see himself ever leaving her or the comfort of her arms. He glanced around the room to get his mind on something else.
“What are you going to do with all these paintings?”
She sat up. “I don’t know. At this point, I don’t even know if Rossini is planning on rebuilding the gallery or if he’ll rent it to me again. I have paintings and art stacked everywhere, even in the hall closet and the entry closet. I guess I could have a...” She jumped up. “Oh... Oh...”
Carter got to his feet, too. Clearly, she was excited about something. “What?”
“With everything that’s going on, I forgot I had them.”
“Had what?”
“You’re going to be so surprised.” She took their wineglasses to the kitchen and walked to the entry closet door. She pulled out several small paintings wrapped in heavy plastic and laid them on the coffee table. “Fox offered me these about a month ago, and a man shopping in the gallery said he would be interested, but it would have to wait until he got back from Europe. I promised him a private showing and stored the paintings in the closet until then.”
He stared at the paintings, two on the coffee table and one on the sofa. He couldn’t believe his eyes. They were all signed by Homer Tinsley or supposedly by the man.
“Do you know what this means?”
“I...I...”
“This could help us find the forger. I thought everything was lost in the fire, but now...”
“Do you think they’re forgeries?”
He held up a painting to the light. “I don’t know yet. They’re very good if they are.”
“But how can you really tell?”
“By sniffing it, for one thing. Oil changes smell over time.” He sniffed one of the paintings. “The oil is probably a little over a year old. It’s been painted recently. Next is to examine with the naked eye to see any imperfections. Then we check the back of the canvas, and this is painted on canvas and secured with tiny nails. If we feel it’s a forgery, we take it to our lab in New York and go over it thoroughly with ultraviolet lights, X-rays and a microscopic view, and a lot of other things that will tell us the age of everything on the canvas and what colors were used to paint it. It’s an involved process, but it will tell us if these Tinsleys are really Tinsleys. And hopefully give us a clue as to where these paintings are coming from.” He went to his room and got his high-powered camera and the things that he needed.
Lila sat on the arm of the sofa and watched him as he got down on his knees and took close-ups of the paintings and then transferred them to his laptop. He then took his laptop to the table. Lila followed.
“Look,” he said as he brought up the paintings on the screen.
“The ones on the left are true Tinsleys and the ones on the right are the ones I just took pictures of. I have to blow them up to get a better view.”
Lila pulled a chair close to his and he had trouble thinking for a moment with the scent of lavender all around him. He quickly brought his thoughts back to the painting. “This guy or woman is good, but he failed on the signature. Take a look and see if you can see it.”
She stared at the screen. “They look the same to me.”
“Look closer. Tinsley makes a fancy loop before he makes the slant for the H and the end of the slant comes out slightly. On the other three paintings, the slant stops and doesn’t come out. It’s minor, but if you look at Tinsley’s real paintings, you’ll see that the slant is on every one of them.”
“I would never notice that and I see a lot of paintings.”
He got to his feet. “I have to call Neil and get a flight out as soon as I can. Do you mind if I take the paintings?”
“Uh... I guess not.”
“Thanks, Lila. You just helped us catch a forger.”
Lila sat on the sofa, staring at the paintings. And then she got up and packaged them together again, but at the back of her mind she was screeching, “He’s leaving and doesn’t seem to mind.”
He came out of the bedroom with his carryall, briefcase and laptop and took them out to his rental. He came back in for the paintings. Standing in the doorway, he said, “I hate to leave like this, but duty calls and I will call you about the paintings.”
What did she say at a moment like this? Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for everything.
She was saved from saying anything because he was already in his rental backing out, leaving her alone once again. But she’d known this would happen. She just hadn’t known it would hurt this much.
She slammed the door with more force than necessary and went into the kitchen to wash the wineglasses. As she worked, she realized she knew very little about Carter Finch. She had no idea where he was going. She just assumed it would be New York, but she didn’t know where the lab was or where Neil lived. All she had was Carter’s phone number, and that would bring very little comfort in the days ahead.
Carter made it to New York and the flight was uneventful. Neil was waiting for him and he climbed into the town car and headed toward Manhattan. He and his wife had a big Upper East Side apartment, which had been in Neil’s family for a long time. The lab was in the building’s basement, so they would be working at his home.
Marla was asleep and the kids were in college, so they went right to work. At six the next morning, Carter woke up on the sofa in the lab and wondered where he was. He reached for Lila and found nothing but a brown tweed sofa. Oh, man, what had he done? He sat up and ran his hands through his hair, trying to remember what he’d said when he left. He hadn’t said much of anything. Oh, man. He buried his face in his hands.
“Go take a shower,” Neil said. “And we’ll go over the data.”
“I need coffee first.”
Neil pointed to a coffee maker on a table. “Just made a fresh pot. These paintings are forgeries and I don’t have a problem validating them as such. The guy is getting sloppy. Even the elements and pigments don’t match. The signature is the telling point. Tinsley would never sign his name like that. He was very meticulous.”
“Yeah,” Carter said, pouring a cup of coffee. “My eye caught it right away.”
“Did you notice anything else?”
“Yes. I was going to talk to you about it when Marla called you upstairs, so I decided to take a thirty-minute nap instead.”
“You were out for two hours.”
“Really?” He glanced at his watch. “I guess I was.”
“It’s understandable since you’d been up all night, but let’s get back to these paintings. What did you notice?”
“Some artists are left-handed and some are right-handed. We put away a guy a few years ago who was left-handed, but he could paint with any hand. He was doing so many forgeries that he forgot and used his left hand on a couple of paintings, and it showed up when we examined it. I think he got five years and is still in prison. But—” he pointed to several spots on the computer screen “—that was done left-handed and the rest of the painting is right-handed.”
“Smart man. I taught you well. Now, can you remember who that guy is?”
“Tony Martell, and as far as I know, he’s still in prison.”
“Let’s find out.” Neil turned to his laptop.
“While you’re doing that, I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay.”
Carter quickly showered and shaved and sat on the bed he used while he was at Neil’s working. Lila was getting up about now and he should call her and try to explain what had come over him. But he wanted to do that in person and he didn’t know when he could get away from Neil to do that. He had to come up with a plan to see her.
He went back to the basement and Neil was getting off the phone. “Martell is out. He’s been out for about a year now, and that’s exactly about the time the Tinsley paintings started showing up in small galleries.”
Carter reached for his phone in his pocket. “I’ll call the detective we hired to get information on Tinsley and see if he can locate Martell.”
Carter sat on the sofa as he talked. “Hey, we haven’t touched base in a while and I was wondering if you had any information for me.”
“It’s your lucky day, man.”
Carter sat up straight. “What do you mean?”
“Tinsley’s wife died fourteen months ago and the people in the village where he lived in France said Tinsley grieved himself to death two months later. He is buried in a small cemetery there and hardly anyone knows this. It’s a best-kept secret.”
“Tinsley is dead?” Carter was trying to take this in and what it meant.
“Yep. You got it. I finally located a great-nephew of Tinsley’s. He’s the only living relative and he inherited Tinsley’s fortune. Or I should say he inherited eighty percent of Tinsley’s wealth.”
“And Fox, his agent, inherited the rest.”
“You got it.”
“This is great work, Jim. Send us an invoice.”
“You bet I will. Just be sitting down when you open it.” Jim always had a weird sense of humor. Carter had known him for a long time. He came from the South and was down-home country all the way, but he was one of those guys who could find a needle in a haystack and his skill was invaluable.
“Try not to be too hard on us.” Neil was doing sign language at him, and Carter realized he’d forgotten to mention Martell. “Wait a minute. I have another case, if you’re interested.”
“Sure, but then I’m taking a vacation for two weeks.”
“We need information on Tony Martell, an address, phone number or anything you can find on him. He’s an ex-con and he’s probably going to be hard to find, but I have no doubt you can. I need it ASAP.”
“On it.” Jim chuckled and clicked off.
Carter told Neil about the new revelations.
“Damn, he’s dead? That should’ve jumped out at us like a two-headed demon months ago. Why didn’t it occur to us?”
“Because that’s not our job. Our job is to determine if the paintings circulating are forgeries, and now we pretty well know that they are. There’s no doubt in my mind that Fox is behind all this. That twenty percent of Tinsley’s estate must’ve been a slap in the face. He’s done everything for the old man for the past twenty years. I guess Fox found a way to continue to make money off Tinsley. Now we have to prove it.”
“Marla and I are leaving for Milan tomorrow, so you’re in charge of the Martell forgeries. Keep me posted.”
For the first time in his career, Carter wasn’t eager to leave and move on to another city. He was still stuck in Chicago. As soon as he got the phone call from Jim, he would leave for another city or wherever Martell called home. But first, he needed to see Lila one more time.
Lila woke up early the next morning eager for a new day. She wasn’t going to wallow in hurt feelings and disappointments. She’d known Carter was going to leave. She just hadn’t expected him to leave at the drop of a hat. But she was sure he had his reasons. She knew one of his reasons: he loved his job in tracking down criminals. She’d heard it in his voice when he talked about his work and she’d heard it when he was showing her the forgeries on his laptop. She hurriedly showered and dressed and was out the door before her mind could wander anymore.
As she slid into her car, her phone buzzed and her thoughts zoomed right back to Carter. It wasn’t Carter. It was Tatum, her cousin from the other branch of the Coltons.
“Hi, Lila. It’s Tatum.”
“Hi, Tatum. It’s nice to hear from you.”
“I was hoping you would say that. I’d like to invite you for lunch today, if you have time.”
“That sounds lovely.” What else could she say? She liked the other Coltons, and giving them the cold shoulder wasn’t in her nature.
“What time?”
“About one.”
“I’ll see you then.” Lila slipped her phone into her purse and wondered what that was about. Tatum owned True restaurant. It was a new farm-to-table restaurant and very popular. The place was known to be packed every day. She backed out of the parking lot with a smile on her face. She would enjoy spending some time with her cousin. Tatum was getting married soon and Lila would love to hear all the details. That made her think of Carter, the man who didn’t have a home and a man who didn’t even want a home. In her heart, she knew he would come back, and she couldn’t tell herself otherwise. She’d been told that as men aged they started thinking about home and family, and she was hoping Carter was no different. She didn’t want to force him into a relationship. She just wanted them to be happy like they were supposed to be. Oh, good heavens, her mother had read her too many fairy tales.
She had a meeting with her car insurance agent to discuss her getting a car since hers was totaled. She was told that since the car was destroyed by the fire, they couldn’t pay until they had a decision if it was arson or not. If it was arson, Rossini, who owned the building, would have the insurance to pay for the car. They just had to wait. The only good news he had to say was that the rental would continue to be paid with her insurance and she could use it as long as she needed. Everything in her life hinged on Richards’s ruling of the fire.
Tatum’s restaurant was in the updated North Center area. When they had the get-together at Farrah’s house, Tatum said she’d renovated an old warehouse there for her restaurant, True. Lila had no problem finding it as she saw people sitting on benches waiting to get in. She was sure there was a waiting area inside, too. Now what did she do? She didn’t want to get in front of people who had been waiting for a while.
She got out of her car and walked toward the entrance. As she was pondering her problem, the guy at the door motioned to her. “Ms. Colton?”
“Yes.”
“Come this way, please.”
She followed him into the restaurant, pausing a moment to look around. The inside was a rich green, and dropdown lighting reminded her of European restaurants. The windows were tall and the ceiling high, letting in lots of light and causing the crystal behind the bar to sparkle off the marble bar. Green plants were everywhere, adding a homey touch to the place. Everything was open, airy and nice.
Suddenly Tatum appeared out of nowhere and linked her arm through Lila’s. “I have a place in the dining room, just for us, where it’s not so noisy.”
Tatum was a blue-eyed blonde bubbling with excitement. She could imagine it would have been fun having her for a cousin when Lila was growing up. It was the same way with the other Coltons. There had been a little awkwardness at first, but once they started talking, there was a connection that couldn’t be denied.
They sat in an out-of-the-way table facing huge windows offering them a view of Chicago. “This is nice,” Lila said.
“And lots of work. Some days I wonder why I took on so much, but then, I can’t sponge off my family. I have to have a job to support myself and to feel good about myself.”
“I know how you feel.”
Something must have changed on Lila’s face as she reached over and touched Lila’s arm. “I’m so sorry about the gallery. How are you doing?”
“Taking it a day at a time and dealing with a lot of insurance people.”
A waitress in a black-and-white uniform stepped over. “Ms. Colton, would you like to order now?” Her eyes were on Tatum, and Lila assumed she was talking to Tatum.
“Give Lila a menu,” she told the girl. “I really don’t need one.”
Lila took the menu and said, “You choose. You know what’s delicious.”
Tatum leaned over and whispered, “It all is.”
Lila smiled. “I’d still like you to choose.”
“Do you like salmon?”
“Yes, I love it.”
“We got some fresh in this morning and I made a new buttery wine sauce for it, so you and I will be tasting it for the first time.”
“That sounds delicious.”
“It comes with couscous, chayote squash and fresh spinach salad. It’s all fresh from the garden. My suppliers come in early and that means I have to be here early. Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep at the table.”
The waitress brought water and took their drink orders. Tatum handed her the menu and said, “I’ll send Apollo our order.” She sent a message over her phone.
The girl didn’t move. She shifted from one foot to the other, obviously nervous. “I know you said not to bother you for anything, but Eddie didn’t show up for work and the dishes are piling up.”
Tatum took a long breath and then looked at the girl. “I’m sure that you, Heather, Bob or Vincent can figure out how to work a dishwasher.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The girl scurried back to the kitchen.
“If you need to check on something, it’s okay,” Lila felt she needed to say.
“No, that’s fine. They’ll figure it out.”
They munched on appetizers and talked about any and everything until the meal was served. It was as delicious as Lila had expected. And then they were served a baked Alaska that was better than anything she’d ever eaten.
She laid her napkin on the table. “That was absolutely delicious and I can see why you’re so busy. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome, but I had a reason.”
Lila clasped her hands in her lap, hoping it wasn’t about the lawsuit. “Oh.”
“I wanted to invite you to our wedding.”
“Oh, Tatum, that’s so nice, but with our families battling each other in court, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Tatum said, her blue eyes bright with energy.
“There would be too much tension and it would ruin your wedding.”
The waitress finished removing the rest of the plates and it gave Lila a minute to gather her thoughts. She never dreamed Tatum would invite her to her wedding. Her mother wouldn’t mind, but her dad... She wasn’t sure what he would say. And did she care?
“Listen to me.” Tatum began her appeal again. “You and your brother and your cousins have made it known how you feel about this lawsuit, and we as a family appreciate your support and would love for all of you to attend the wedding.”
“There are so many ifs here that I’m not sure what to say.”
“Then say yes.”
“And if the judge rules in my grandmother’s favor, will you be able to even look at us? It would bankrupt Colton Connections and would destroy your family.”
Tatum put a hand to her forehead. “Oh, Lila, you think too much. Let’s just enjoy the moment that we have, and I’m getting married soon and I want you to be there to celebrate with me. Who cares what happens? We’ll still survive. We all work every day and can work our way through this, build another business, because if there’s one thing we are not, it’s quitters. So, cheer up. I’m getting married soon and I’m dying to tell you all about it.”
Lila loved her attitude. For the next thirty minutes, they talked wedding details, and Lila got caught up in Tatum’s excitement. Her eyes glittered as bright as a neon light. “I kid you not, my mother calls me at least three times a day asking me questions—what to do about this or what to do about that. She’s an interior designer and I trust her instincts. I told her I’m busy and just make a decision. She said, ‘Young lady, you’re getting married and you need to pay attention to the details.’ So I’m paying attention.”
They laughed and sat back and stared at each other.
“This has been fun,” Lila said, losing some of her nervousness.
“Then you’ll come to the wedding?”
“You’re so persuasive I’ll think about it.”
They got up and hugged, and Tatum really did feel like a cousin. Lila hoped it stayed that way through the months ahead.