by Destiny Ford
He nodded.
“How did you find out about the other pieces?”
“We keep record of all of the owners of my dad’s work. When someone buys one of his pieces, they agree to keep us notified of where the piece is. If they choose to sell it, our family gets the first option to buy it back at current market value.”
“Do people always comply with the request to notify your family and sell it to you first?”
He shifted in his seat, crossing one leg so his ankle rested on his other knee. “Generally they do. There’s a hefty fine if they don’t. Most people would rather do something as simple as send an email than have the threat of the fine hanging over their heads.”
A fine? This was serious art ownership. “I imagine an agreement like that makes your dad’s pieces even more valuable.”
Aaron tilted his head to the side. “It definitely helps. They’re one of a kind pieces and people like owning rare things.”
Having that much control over Ron Storm’s pieces could also help the Storm family inflate the prices.
“Who manages the inventory of pieces?” I asked.
“My brother and I.”
“Do you both do it full time?”
Aaron shook his head. “No, I’m a financial planner and my brother works in marketing. My dad’s work is something we oversee on the side so my mom doesn’t have to worry about it. She’s got her hands full taking care of my dad.”
I nodded, feeling for them. I couldn’t imagine watching a parent decline in health and wasn’t looking forward to the day when I’d have to.
“What do you do in cases like the ones I mentioned above—where people simply don’t know where the pieces are?”
He lifted a shoulder. “There’s not much we can do in those cases. We try to watch private sellers, but there are many, and the underground art world is so massive that it’s almost impossible. But it’s heartbreaking. My dad’s health has been in decline for some time. He’s not able to work much at all anymore. The pieces that currently exist are likely the only pieces that ever will.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your dad’s health.”
“Thank you.”
A little girl with strawberry blonde curls came running into the room dressed like Wonder Woman complete with the bracelets and crown. I wasn’t sure if that was her daily outfit, or special seasonal attire for Halloween, but I felt an immediate kinship with the little Amazon. “Daddy!” she yelled. She jumped into Aaron’s arms and gave him a huge hug.
“Hi, pumpkin,” he said. “Did you have fun playing outside?”
“Yes!” she said with enthusiasm. “I jumped in leaves and beat the bad guys!”
She was freaking adorable.
“Come jump with me!” she said, tugging at his hand.
He laughed. “Give me a few more minutes and I will.”
“I’ve taken up more than enough of your time,” I said, standing. “Thank you for your candor and for being willing to meet with me.”
“Of course,” Aaron said, rising.
“Have fun playing in the leaves,” I said to them both.
He chuckled. “It took me two hours yesterday to rake them up. I imagine it will take another two hours tonight.” He watched his daughter go running outside. “But it’s worth it.”
I smiled at him as I left and could see why my dad liked him so much. His wife and kids were the quintessential perfection many Utah families endeavored to become, and he seemed like a good guy. The background about his family and the sculptures was also helpful, though it didn’t seem to point me in any direction to continue my search. I knew Hawke was on the lookout for any Ron Storm sculptures going up for sale. Hopefully he’d get a hit and we could go from there.
Chapter Eighteen
Since I wasn’t sure where Hawke and I were going tonight, what we were doing, or what I’d be wearing, I thought I better grab a late lunch before heading back to the office to finish things up.
I stopped at Fry Guy and got a chicken sandwich, fries with the best fry sauce—a mixture of mayo and ketchup—in the state, and an Oreo milkshake. I probably shouldn’t have gotten that, especially considering my lack of information about tonight’s events, but fat and carb filled comfort food sounded the best. A bright neon sign on the counter announced that the fast food place would soon be offering tater tots and a taco salad option. My brows rose. That was not going to make Tres Tacos, the Mexican fast food place, happy in the least. Tater tots and taco salads were their staples. I wondered if they knew about it yet. Tres Tacos and Fry Guy co-existed in small town fast food harmony because of their vastly different food offerings. This menu change was an unabashed act of aggression by Fry Guy.
I was contemplating the fight that would break out between them when Bobby came in.
“Hey ya, Kate.”
“Hi, Bobby. What are you doing here?” I wondered if Tres Tacos had already heard about the tater tot mutiny and Bobby was here preemptively.
“Gettin’ some food. Long day.”
I nodded in agreement. “Hey,” I said, still thinking about my conversation with Aaron Storm. “Aside from the Collins’ robbery, were there ever reports filed for other missing Ron Storm art pieces?”
Bobby thought about it for a minute. “I’d have to check. I remember one a while ago, but that’s it.”
“It was probably Laura Innot. She reported her piece stolen in the past year.”
“That sounds right,” he said, putting a finger to his lips. “How did you find out about that?”
“My dad mentioned more than one Ron Storm sculpture has gone missing or been stolen recently. I was looking into it to see if that was maybe a motive for the robberies.”
Bobby lifted his hand and stroked his chin with his fingers as he thought. “Interestin’. Only one house had a Ron Storm though. Why were the others robbed?”
I shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
My food order was called.
“Let me know if you hear anythin’ or have other ideas,” Bobby said.
“I will,” I answered, taking a bite of my shake as I walked out the door. It was creamy with the perfect ratio of Oreo to ice cream and I was going to enjoy it for the rest of the afternoon while trying not to think of my outing with Hawke tonight.
It wasn’t a costume, but it might as well have been.
I gave myself one last look in the mirror. When I’d pulled the dress out of the box, I’d thought Hawke might have confused the word “dress” with “lingerie” and had perhaps lied to me about the Eyes Wide Shut party. I’d pulled it on thanks to prayer, and it had fallen in beautiful folds down my body. The whole dress was lace, bright red, with intricate lattice designs, and to say it was form fitting was an understatement. I was worried I’d break a seam or five from breathing. It had a plunging neckline that showed more of my boobs than anyone other than my past boyfriends had seen, short cap sleeves, and it fell to the floor, the back of it pooling slightly in a tiny train. A slit went up the right side that threatened to show everyone my lady bits if I moved the wrong way. We were either going to a very fancy party, or the slit was like the tear strip on bags from the grocery store—the ones that help get you started at tearing things, and we weren’t really going anywhere. Truly, the dress was gorgeous, and fancier than anything I’d ever worn in my life. And it probably cost more than my Jeep…which was a sobering thought.
A knock sounded on the door. Normally Gandalf, chief notifier of the house, would have been on guard and barking like crazy. But since I wasn’t sure about the night’s events or when I would be home, he was having a sleepover at my mom and dad’s.
I picked up my clutch containing essentials like lipstick, and opened the door to find Hawke wearing a black dress shirt, a red tie that matched my dress color perfectly, and a black tuxedo that draped over him exquisitely in the way only outrageously expensive clothes do. He was intimidating normally, but Hawke in a tux was a whole new level. He stood
in the door frame, taking up all the space—polished, refined, and powerful. His cool countenance betrayed nothing. He could be planning to take me to bed, or he could be planning to murder someone. I really had no idea. And I’d never been more turned on.
His eyes trailed over me from head to toe. When they finally came to rest on my face, they were a deep green, and looked like they’d been heated from within. Every part of my body felt like it was tuned to a channel only Hawke was broadcasting and that channel was screaming at me to rip his clothes off. Based on the barely contained lust in his expression, I had a feeling his parts were screaming the same thing. We might not make it to the super-secret rendezvous.
“I don’t even care about the event anymore. Let’s stay here,” he said.
“I thought this was for work?”
“It is. And I don’t care.”
I pushed him out the door and locked it behind me. “One of us has to be responsible.” Something flashed behind me, a blink of light, and I whipped my head around squinting into the darkness to see what it was. But I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. It was probably just some car headlights on the street.
We walked out to the driveway where a sleek, silver Audi R8 sat. Seriously?! Hawke had an Audi R8? That was in addition to the sexy ’67 Shelby Mustang and black as pitch Harley he usually drove during warmer months. He had a garage on his property almost as big as his house and I still hadn’t been in it. I’d always wondered what other treasures it contained. Now I knew one of them, and wanted to see the rest.
He opened the car door for me and I slid inside while trying to arrange the slit so I didn’t flash every traffic camera on the way to wherever it was we were going. Hawke got in the other side and the car immediately felt like there wasn’t enough air. Hawke took up a lot of space, and his presence commanded even more of it than the average man.
He turned the engine over as his eyes slowly moved down my body and then back up in a way that felt like a stroke of his hand. “That color is beautiful on you.”
“The color of blood?”
His eyes heated and I couldn’t decide if I was turned on by the fact that blood did it for him, or terrified by it.
“That red lipstick isn’t going to last, either,” he warned.
“It better. Otherwise everyone is going to remember your date as the one who looked like the Joker with boobs.”
His lips moved into a slow, sensual smile as he turned onto the street and we started our journey. “Or they’ll remember you as the one who had six orgasms in the car.”
I swallowed, trying to get enough moisture back in my throat to respond. “Six, huh?”
“We’ll start low.” He gave me a wink.
It was a really good thing the dress had a slit that ran all the way to China, and the lace gave it air movement because I was burning up. I reached over and attempted to fiddle with the air controls. I’d never been in a car that cost more than a house so I had no idea how to make any of the fancy things work.
“It’s really hot in here.” I explained. I started giving myself a little pep talk in my head that went: Don’t think of how he looks good enough to lick in his tuxedo, or how much you actually want to rip it off him and start a taste test.
Hawke swore under his breath. “It could get a lot hotter.”
I needed to change the subject, and fast.
“Do you realize the amount of restraint it has taken me to not ask more questions about tonight?”
His lips tipped up. “Oh, I know.”
“I don’t like secrets.”
“I know that too.”
“Are you going to give me any information about this evening?”
He went silent for about ten years just to exasperate me before finally answering, “It’s a very private auction about an hour away. I have no idea what will be sold there. I’m not going for the items; I’m going for the networking and information.”
An auction? I’d always wanted to go to one, but was worried I’d have to sneeze and accidentally end up buying a gold toilet.
“So are we buying things at this very private auction?”
“I will, because it’s important to look like we’re there for the items, not recon.”
Ah ha. “So I’m here to help distract people while you observe them, network, and get the information you’re looking for?”
“Exactly.”
I breathed a little sigh of relief that I wouldn’t be wearing a mask and getting naked in front of a room full of people.
He looked over at me. “Relieved?”
I gave him a look as he hit the gas to get around another car. The engine purred and the sound went straight to my core.
“I can’t believe you have an Audi R8 and I didn’t know about it.” I let a hint of annoyance show in my tone. There were a lot of things I didn’t know about when it came to Hawke.
“The Ferrari seemed a little too flashy for this evening, though it would have worked as well.”
My eyes were the size of the Branson Falls rodeo champion’s belt buckle. “Is that a joke? Because I really can’t tell if you’re joking?”
One corner of his lips ticked up. “It’s not a joke.”
My mouth fell open. “You own a Ferrari?!”
“Two.”
My jaw dropped even more, and this time I was pretty sure it hit the floor. “What do you do for a living?!?” I tried not to shout. I did not succeed.
“Lots of things.”
Murder. He murdered people. I knew it. I was sure he had good justifications for it, but seriously, he wasn’t that much older than me…maybe early-thirties. There weren’t many things you could do by that age that paid as well as Hawke seemed to be paid. He couldn’t possibly own the things he did and not be killing people to afford them. As the car glided down the road like we were being carried on a cloud, I had the uncomfortable thought that despite the fact that he could very well be a mercenary and a murderer, his car collection might be able to make me forgive those things entirely. Selective ethics and all.
Regardless, if a relationship were to ever happen between us, I needed some answers from him. I needed him to open up and let me in. If he didn’t, I wasn’t sure how we could build a bond. Hawke glanced over at me. He must have sensed my frustration.
“Life wasn’t always like this for me,” he said, his expression tight.
I looked at him, surprised that he was opening up. I waited to see if he would go on.
“My childhood was difficult. I left as soon as I was able. I had a certain skillset that fit well with the military, so that’s where I went. I moved up the ranks quickly, and did things that still haunt me to this day. Over the years, I’ve learned how to deal with them, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have regrets about some of my actions.
“Is there a particular regret you want to tell me about?”
The corner of his lips turned down in an expression that told me that question was not easy to answer.
When I’d first met Hawke, I’d done a background check on him and didn’t find anything shocking. Then again, he could have had information redacted from his files, he’d told me in the past that he carefully managed his image and personal and professional information. I was curious about his history and what he’d been through, but didn’t want to push him too far. I decided to give him a nudge and see where it went.
“I did a background check on you when we first started working together months ago on the Bradford case. I didn’t see a criminal record or anything shocking.”
A muscle worked at his jaw. “Because there isn’t one.”
I had so many questions, but I had a feeling Hawke opening up like this with anyone was new, and rare. If I pushed him, he wouldn’t keep talking. I needed to be there for him. To let him know I wasn’t afraid of his ghosts.
He kept going. “My point is I’m not the knight in shining armor you were taught to want. I know you’re working through things. You’re trying to figure out your
feelings, what you want for a future, and who you want as a partner. I’m not saying I’m going to be that person, but if I’m anywhere close to being on your list, you deserve to know the real me—and the real me isn’t always on the side that many people view as good. I’m not the white knight. I survived by embracing darkness and while I do my best to err on the side of good, that’s a very subjective line.”
Ah, so he was trying to protect me. He didn’t want to push me away, but he also wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into. I did. I already knew that Hawke’s business wasn’t entirely on the up-and-up. I knew he had a history, and some of it would be shocking. It worried me because I didn’t know how his past would affect our potential relationship, but it wasn’t going to push me away either. I knew he had a dark side—we all did. I wasn’t afraid of his.
“Are you telling me this to try and scare me?” I asked.
“No. I’m telling you this because I want you to be aware of what you’re getting into. I’m compassionate. I’m kind. And I’ve also killed people. Some people live in shades of grey. Things are very black and white for me. It’s how I am.”
“Black and white is a difficult barometer. Who gets to decide what’s right or wrong?”
“Me.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “Have you ever been wrong about someone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you feel bad about that?”
He paused. “No. There are things I do feel bad about, but that’s not one of them. I did what I had to do to protect myself and those I’m responsible for. I made the best choices based on what I knew at the time, and I own my actions.”
The phrase that caught me in that explanation was protecting those he was responsible for. I wondered how much of his life had been composed of protecting others, himself included, and how much of that he was still doing. Feeling like the world is constantly on your shoulders is a lot to manage. I was sure I hadn’t felt it to the extent Hawke had, but I knew it must be heavy.