Romancing the Brush: An Austin, Texas Art Mystery (The Michelle Hodge Series Book 3)

by Roslyn Woods

  “Is it the guy I met?” Brad asked.

  “Yes. We weren’t together yet when you met him, but yes.”

  “He must think I’m one major asshole.”

  “Yes, if he thinks about you at all, I imagine he does.”

  “Can you tell him I apologized? Tell him I’m sorry I acted the way I did when I met him? Tell him I know I acted like a jerk?”

  “I doubt he’ll feel much better as a result of our encounter today, but I’ll tell him everything.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “What’s he like, Shell?” Lisa asked.

  “Dean?” she asked. She thought about not answering Lisa, but she realized it would probably help her feelings to know she really had fallen in love. “He’s everything I ever hoped for. He’s kind and he’s brilliant. He’s read everything, and I mean everything. He plays chess, grows a lovely vegetable garden, has a gorgeous dog I adore, and he’s a computer genius. Oh, and he’s handsome. I could go on.”

  “He sounds wonderful,” said Lisa. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you’re happy—”

  “Oh!” Brad interrupted. “I have your check.” He reached inside the breast pocket of his sport coat and pulled out the check. He looked at it and added, “The gallery didn’t keep fifty percent this time. We figured it was the least we could do.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Shell.

  He handed the check to her. It was written for thirty-six thousand dollars and signed by Brad himself.

  “You’re sure you’re not going to take the gallery’s cut?” she asked.

  “I’m sure,” said Brad. Shell knew the money was like pocket change to Brad. He was to inherit an oil fortune from his father, and he already had unlimited access to his father’s account.

  “Well, thank you,” she said quietly. “I appreciate it.”

  “Shell, we haven’t told anyone else, but we’re planning to get married,” Brad said, glancing over at Lisa.

  “That’s great,” said Shell, wishing they’d leave.

  “We were hoping we could have your blessing?” he continued.

  “Of course,” she replied. “Of course you have my blessing.”

  They stood up, and Shell opened the door so they could go. Lisa was still crying a little. “Shell, could you just give me a hug so I won’t feel like you hate me?”

  “Lisa, I don’t hate you. I don’t. Of course,” said Shell, and she hugged her former friend. “No ill will,” she added.

  “How about me?” asked Brad, standing in the open doorway as Lisa remembered her purse and went back over to the sofa.

  “No ill will,” said Shell, and she reached up to hug him, too.

  It was an odd moment that would be burned into Shell’s consciousness for a very long time to come. She and Brad were standing in the open doorway when her arms went around his neck, and his arms had gone around her waist just as she heard the elevator doors open. Over Brad’s shoulder, Shell’s eyes caught Dean’s astonished expression. It was a moment frozen in time, and everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. She could see Dean leaning toward the button panel inside the elevator, and she could see the doors closing again before she could find words speak.

  “No!” she said, running out to the elevator and hammering on the button a few times. “No, no, no!”

  In a moment all Brad and Lisa knew was that the check was fluttering to the floor and Shell was running to the end of the hall and disappearing. She ran, fairly flying down the flights in a frantic rush to reach the lobby, but ten floors is a quick trip in an elevator, and as fast as she ran, it was still a much, much slower trip on foot. She reached the lobby and rushed toward the closest exit.

  “May I help you?” asked a doorman.

  “A man! A man just left this way!”

  “A lot of men just left this way.”

  “He was tall! He was on his way to the parking garage!” she said.

  “Must be that way,” said the doorman, pointing north from where they stood. Shell ran in the direction he had pointed, but the parking garage was enormous, and she suddenly knew that there was no way on earth she’d ever find him. She stayed on the first floor of the garage just looking for a couple of minutes. Cars passed her, and someone in a red Corvette honked. She was standing in his way, and she turned and slowly headed back toward the hotel.

  Her heart was heavy when she finally returned to her room on the tenth floor. Brad and Lisa were still there and looking completely confused.

  “I—I thought I saw someone, but I think I was mistaken,” she said, not wanting to explain. “Thank you for coming. I have an appointment in five minutes downstairs.”

  “Okay,” said Brad, still looking puzzled. “I hope we’ll see you again before long.”

  “And Shell,” said Lisa, “if that buyer wants to talk to you about more paintings, what’s the best way for him to reach you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. It was the last thing she cared about now, but to get them to go she went over to her purse and found her new business card in one of the pockets. “Here’s my card. You can give him this.”

  “Perfect,” said Lisa, accepting the card and handing Shell the check she’d picked up off the floor. “I hope we see you before long, Shell.”

  “Sure, right. Me, too,” said Shell, accepting the check again and looking as if she might cry at any moment, but neither Brad nor Lisa knew why.

  Chapter 18

  She tried calling his cell phone. Three times she tried, but he wasn’t answering. She finally texted.

  It wasn’t what it looked like. I can explain. Please come back.

  But he didn’t respond, and she gathered up her things and called for someone from the desk to come up and take them down to the lobby.

  Jan was waiting at a table in The Terrace restaurant.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had a little problem,” said Shell.

  Jan was giving her a searching look. “Are you okay?”

  “Not really. I don’t want to discuss it, but something is wrong at home, and I really need to get on the road right after we eat.”

  “Do you need to leave now? It’s fine. I understand that things come up.”

  “No. I think I’d better wait a little while,” she said, her knees feeling as if they would give way at any moment as she seated herself at the table across from Jan.

  Shell looked down at her hands and saw that they were shaking. She had no idea if she could even swallow at this point. Her heart was beating well above the normal rate, and she felt flushed. It wasn’t unlike the panic attack she’d had on the weekend while visiting Dripping Springs. Only this time, she knew exactly what was bothering her.

  “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” asked Jan.

  “Oh Jan, it’s a very long and complicated story,” she said, her voice quavering.

  “Something tells me you’re not going to want to eat anyway. You might as well talk. I’ll order us something simple, easy to digest. What’s your family for if not to share your heartaches?”

  So it was obvious. Her heart was aching, and she knew she was too panicked to drive right now. She put her cell phone on the table in hopes Dean would respond to her text, but inside she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She was so dazed she didn’t notice that Jan was ordering poached eggs and plain toast with tea. The food arrived before she knew it, and Shell lifted the teacup with trembling fingers while staring out the window for a couple of minutes. Then she told Jan about Brad and Lisa and about her move to Austin last October. Jan already knew quite a bit about Dean from last night’s conversation, but the details about today’s confusion were all new. It was surprising, but it only took a few minutes, and Jan listened intently asking questions here and there.

  “I know you’re upset, Shell,” she said finally, “but you’re going to explain what happened to Dean, and he’s going to understand. You’ve hit a bump in the road, and his feelings are probably hurt, but th
ey won’t stay hurt because you didn’t cheat on him. He’ll learn the truth, and all will be well. I feel sure of it.”

  It was nice to hear those words. Shell began to feel calmer. Dean was an intelligent man. He knew her character. As soon as he knew what happened he would be fine. She made herself eat part of the dry toast before she said she should be going. “Jan, I’m so glad to have reconnected with you, but I’m going to have to leave now.”

  “I know. I’m going to call and check on you tonight. I’m sorry this thing happened today, but you’re going to be okay.”

  Jan was so sure that Dean would understand, Shell was able to offer a little smile and a genuinely warm hug.

  “Goodbye, Jan,” she said. “I’ll talk to you tonight, then,” and she was gone.

  The trip home was excruciating. First there was traffic, and Shell was more than antsy. She checked her phone incessantly, and she tried calling Dean over and over again. He didn’t answer, and she found herself worrying that something had happened to him. What if he’d had an accident? What if he didn’t go home but just took off somewhere and she wouldn’t be able to find him?

  She drove as fast as she could on the stretches of road where that was possible, but it still took her a full four and a half hours to get home. As she pulled onto Barrow Avenue, she could feel her heart beating in her chest. Relief! His car was in the carport at his house.

  She parked under the blooming wisteria in her own carport and ran up her steps, fumbling with her keys as she unlocked the door. “Dean! Dean!” she called as she went in.

  It looked different inside. The stack of books Dean kept on the coffee table was gone, and his chessboard was no longer on the side table. She walked into the kitchen calling, “Dean? Dean!” She could see that his coffee maker was gone, and as she hurried back to the bedroom she leaned in and saw his alarm clock was no longer on his nightstand. The closet door stood open, and it was clear Dean’s clothes had been removed.

  Shell took in the changes very quickly, and she knew what they meant. She hurried back out the front door, down her front steps, and up the steps to Dean’s front porch. The brick-red door was locked, and she rang the bell. She could hear Sadie and Bitsy barking in there, but no one came to the door. She rang the bell again and called, “Dean! Please let me in. I can explain!”

  He didn’t come. Her keys were still in her hand, and she did have a key to his house, but she hated to use it. Oh, well! This was the time. She pushed it in the lock and turned the deadbolt. The door opened and she walked in.

  Dean was sitting on the leather sofa looking at her as she closed the door behind her. He didn’t speak. His face was expressionless and pale. His blue eyes were cold steel.

  “Dean, I—”

  “Please don’t talk to me,” he said quietly. “Just take Bitsy and go.”

  “No, Dean. You have to let me explain what happened.”

  “Actually, I don’t. I want you to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving till you hear what happened!”

  Dean stood up. At six foot three he towered over her. He brushed past her and reopened the front door. Bitsy was yapping at Shell’s feet, and he bent down and picked her up, “Here, take your dog,” he said, pushing Bitsy into her arms.

  “Dean, you have to let me explain,” she said, accepting the little dog from him while Sadie whined at her knee.

  “Get out, Shell. Get out of my house.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

  “No, Dean. You think something that isn’t true!”

  “Don’t start lying to me. I’m not a violent man, but don’t test me. Just go. Go now.”

  “I don’t believe you’d ever hurt me.”

  “And I didn’t believe you’d ever hurt me. Just get out. And you’d better find somewhere else to live. I don’t want you in my mother’s house anymore.”

  “I’m not leaving here till you listen to me,” she repeated.

  “You don’t understand. I’m bigger and stronger than you. I can pick you up and carry you out of this house without any effort at all. I’ll do it, so don’t push me. Get out!” He had been speaking quietly up until that last part, and suddenly Shell felt tears spill onto her face. He was hurting her terribly.

  “I never dreamed you could be so arrogant that you would judge me like this without allowing me an explanation!”

  “You’re telling me you’ve got an explanation that will make me doubt my own eyes? Sorry, I’m not that stupid. Just go,” he repeated, more quietly this time, but still as cold as ice.

  “Not your eyes, Dean! I want you to doubt the conclusion you jumped to because of what you saw. Your conclusion is wrong!”

  “I have to hand it to you, you had me fooled, and even now you seem to believe your own story. You’re good, but I’m through being duped. Just go.”

  “Dean, I’d never—”

  “Never cheat on me? Tell me this. What would you think if you surprised me one morning in a hotel room and I had an ex-girlfriend in my arms and a rumpled bed behind me?”

  “It wasn’t what it looked like!”

  “Don’t make me carry you out of here!” His hand was gripping her elbow and he was trying to guide her to the door, but she shook him off and stepped backward before she spoke again.

  “You’ll regret this, Dean Maxwell! You’ll remember how I tried to explain and you wouldn’t listen! Only then it’ll be too late!”

  “It’s already too late,” he said to her back as she went out through the door with the little dog in her arms. She could hear Sadie whining before the door closed, but she didn’t look back.

  Chapter 19

  Shell didn’t even take her bag in. She carried the two paintings in and left them on her dining room table, still in their crates. Then she took the check from her purse and left it next to them. She wanted nothing to do with anything related to the events of the morning. These things would have to wait for another day. Then, while gathering a few necessities from her dresser—Dean’s side was completely empty—and grabbing her laptop and charger, she realized she was leaving.

  She was leaving this charming little house that she and Margie and Carmen had so lovingly painted from top to bottom. She had filled it with all the things she thought she needed to make a home, and she wondered briefly if she would ever love a house like this one again. She even wondered if she would ever come back for anything more than moving out.

  The few things she’d just gathered she took outside and threw into the Corolla before going back into the house to get Bitsy and a small sack of dog food. Moving without thought at this point, hurrying to get out, get out of her house, get away from Dean, show him—if he was watching—that she wasn’t crawling into her bed to cry, was her only discernable motivation.

  Right now, she wasn’t crying at all. She grew angrier by the minute until her blood was boiling. Six months ago she had believed in Dean’s innocence without question, even taken a bullet to prove it. Now that it was her turn to be believed he wouldn’t even give her the courtesy of a conversation. She pulled out of the driveway with a good bit more speed than necessary, making a skidding noise as she pulled away. She hoped that Dean heard it.

  For twenty minutes she drove seeing red all the way, but at some point she realized she had no idea where on earth she was going. For the first time since college she was in a position where she couldn’t go to Margie. Margie was the last person she could talk to about what had happened. Even now, as unfair as Dean had been to her, she couldn’t damage his relationship with his little sister. It meant too much to Margie.

  It was nearly five o’clock, and she was driving aimlessly, occasionally reaching over to the passenger seat to calm Bitsy by patting her soft head. Slowly, her anger was giving way to regret. If only she had told Jan she couldn’t make it to Dallas. If only she had told Lisa to go ahead and mail the check. If only she hadn’t made Dean feel bad about not coming with her. Maybe then he wouldn’t have shown up at the moment he had. If only her roo
m hadn’t been right in front of the elevator. It seemed that everything, everything, had conspired to ruin her relationship with Dean.

  “I guess it’s just you and me, kid,” she said to the little dog. Bitsy let out a nervous bark every little bit, unsure of where they were headed without Sadie and Dean. Shell realized that having the little dog with her meant she might have difficulty finding a hotel. She wasn’t sure. She had never taken a dog to a hotel before.

  Somehow she found herself south of the river on Congress Avenue. It was already rush hour here, and she was forced to move along very slowly as cowboys, hipsters, bikers, and business people hurried across the road in this very funky and popular part of town. People were meeting for happy hour or dinner, and the food trailers and restaurants were already developing lines.

  Turning left on Annie Street, Shell found herself curving along and making a right on Travis Heights. There was Billie and Leonardo’s house, and she pulled up to the curb. Their cars could be in the garage, so she couldn’t tell if they were home. She picked up Bitsy and climbed out of the Corolla.

  The door of the very modern house was huge and made of some heavy, blond wood, maybe maple, and the house itself was clearly a new addition to the neighborhood they lived in. Most of the houses in this area were bungalows or Victorians.

  Shell rang the bell. In a moment she heard Penny barking, and the door opened.

  “Shell, darling! What a surprise!” Billie was saying. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me in my bunny slippers!” he said with a laugh and lifted up a bunny-eared foot in a mock dance step. “It had to come out sometime!” Then his face changed. “What is it sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

  Shell suddenly realized she couldn’t speak. It was as if something large had lodged itself in her throat, and she was staring glassy-eyed at Billie.