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CHAPTER ELEVEN

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“Isn’t it awesome?” Kat said, staring across her living room.

Andrew scooted closer to her on the couch and draped his arm around her shoulders. “It sure is.”

“How much do you think it’s worth?”

“You’re asking me?” Andrew snorted. “I’m probably the only person who’s more clueless about art than you.”

“Well, if Nikita’s full-sized paintings are going for five figures, this one must be worth at least four.” Kat shook her head, finding it hard to believe she had something that valuable inside her dinky apartment. “And her mother just gave it to me.”

“She was grateful you caught Nikita’s killer.”

“Except that killer turned out to be her other daughter.” Kat paused, then said, “Do you think Clover recognized Valerie?”

“What do you mean?”

“The night Nikita died he was looking out Imogene’s window. He might have seen Valerie driving that car. Maybe that’s why he was so determined not to let her escape.”

“You’re giving this cat too much credit,” Andrew said. “He attacked her because he didn’t appreciate the fact that she had tossed him out of his chair, pure and simple.”

Kat grinned. “You’re never going to admit that cats can be eyewitnesses to crimes, are you?”

Andrew tucked a strand of her hair behind one ear. “That’s because they can’t.”

“Either way, I’m glad the bad guy—or girl—is now in jail.” Kat sighed, her spirits deflating. “Poor Melissa though.”

When Kat had talked to Nikita’s mother after Valerie’s arrest, Melissa had been struggling to maintain her composure. Kat hadn’t wanted to accept the small painting she’d offered as a thank-you, but Melissa had insisted. Nikita would have wanted her to have it, she’d said.

The painting was only about twelve-by-twelve inches. Even so, the amount of detail Nikita had packed into the tiny nature scene was stunning. Kat could actually see the veins in the tree leaves and the spiderweb of cracks etched into the bark of the trunk. The piece’s focal point, a cougar crouched behind a cluster of branches, looked almost real.

Apparently Tom thought the cougar looked a little too real. He had clambered onto the computer desk as soon as Kat had hung the painting. Since then, his eyes hadn’t left it once, the tip of his tail flicking every few seconds. Twice he’d even stood on his hind legs and stretched toward the painting as though to attack this third cat who had invaded their home.

Matty, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as impressed. Although she had looked up from her spot on the couch when Kat had walked through the front door, the moment she’d seen the painting she had yawned and closed her eyes again.

“You think Matty would be a good painter?” Kat asked, reaching over to ruffle the tortoiseshell’s fur.

“Matty?” Andrew echoed. “You mean your cat Matty?”

“The way she dismissed Nikita’s work, I get the sense she thinks she can do better.”

“That’s pure feline superiority. She believes she’s the best at everything, it doesn’t matter what you’re talking about.”

“True. But if Nolan Calabresi can find a market for his artwork, I’m sure Matty could find one for hers too.”

Andrew pursed his lips before bobbing his head. “Okay, I’ll give you that. But she’s rather lazy, don’t you think? She’d probably fall asleep on the job.”

Kat grinned. “Maybe she and Tom could work in shifts. It could be a joint effort.”

“I doubt you would want anything those two created hanging in your apartment.”

Matty lifted her head and glared at Andrew before joining Tom by the desk, united with her brother in solidarity. Clearly she hadn’t appreciated Andrew’s digs at their untapped talent.

Kat watched as Matty started licking Tom’s ear. “You know, I used to feel sorry for myself because I was an only child. But after seeing how Valerie felt about Nikita, now I’m not so sure it wasn’t for the best.”

“Not all sisters kill each other,” Andrew said.

“I know. But there’s a dynamic there I never thought much about. Whenever I used to fantasize about having a sibling I focused on all the benefits, not the jealousy and friction that goes along with it.”

Andrew shifted positions. “And sometimes neither one of you ends up with too many feelings about the other, positive or negative.”

Kat twisted to face him better, picking up something in his voice. “Who are you talking about?”

“Me and my sister.”

His words sent her reeling. “You have a sister?”

He nodded. “She’s technically a half-sister, I guess. We have the same father.”

Kat gaped at him. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about her?”

“Like I said, we’re not close. We didn’t grow up together. I didn’t even know she existed until about five years ago.”

“Still.” She would have thought he might find his reunion with a long-lost sister significant enough to mention sometime during the four months they’d been together.

She stood up and crossed over to the other side of the room, needing some space. She was hurt that Andrew had kept such a big secret from her. Didn’t he trust her enough to open up about his family?

“I didn’t mean to hide it from you,” he said, as though he could read her mind. “It just never occurred to me to say anything. I don’t think about her much.”

His explanation mollified her a little. Maybe she was reading too much into this.

Her gaze drifted toward Nikita’s painting, her attention drawn to the cougar once more. She studied the markings on his face and the way Nikita had detailed the grooves of his nose. Her eyes traveled lower, stopping by his paws. Nikita had painted just the tiniest tip of a claw protruding from one of his toes. She had missed that earlier.

She glanced over her shoulder at Andrew. Maybe, like Nikita’s painting, there would always be new things to discover about him if she looked close enough.

She hoped so. After all, she planned for him to stick around for a while.