by Cari Quinn
“It can do better.” I slid the glass back into the envelope and into the clutch.
“As you endlessly remind me.”
He held up a black wool jacket. “Shall we go?”
I nodded. “Let’s get this done.”
The trip into the city was uneventful. Marblehead wasn’t exactly the mecca of parties for Christmas. Most people were traveling into Boston instead.
But the gallery’s parking lot and two of the adjoining lots were full to bursting with cars. Philomena had outdone herself as usual. White twinkle lights and holly circled the columns out front. Both of the windows had Christmas trees in them with discrete holiday themed paintings in the setup.
Always something to sell.
I used to think she was a genius at marketing. Now, I had to wonder if she’d destroyed as many artists as she’d created. How many of my own pieces were sold to gangsters to launder their money?
Did they just say in boxes at the back of their closets?
Blake slid a hand around my hip and gathered me in close. “Bring the rage down to a manageable level. You’re going to start breathing fire before we even get through the vestibule.”
“Right. You’re right.” I threw my shoulders back. The fact that she’d duped me for so many years made my head pound and anger bubble in my gut.
No one at the party would know it though. I’d learned from my grandmother just how important outward appearances were. I smiled and drank and made it a point to talk to nearly everyone at the party.
The closer I got to the queen of the hour, the more tense I became. Before I could interrupt Cat Bishop and steal Phil away to talk to her, Blake swirled me into the small crowd of dancers.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Saving you from yourself.” Blake gave a regal nod to an elderly patron dancing stiffly with his much younger wife. He glanced down at me. “You need to calm down.”
“I am calm?”
“You’re actually making me nervous. I’m not dressed for hiding a body tonight, Ms. Copeland.”
I sighed and pressed my face to his neck. I breathed in his citrus scent and beat back the dark anger until it was a manageable level. “I loved this woman like a mother. ”
He cupped the back of my neck, burrowing under the curls. “I know, baby.”
My fingers tightened on the shoulders of his jacket. I really wasn’t sure if I could take any more betrayal. I just needed to get through this night and get more proof for Jack so I could move on with my life.
Because the thought of the alternative was enough to drive me mad. I took a calming breath, but my line of sight dissolved the ounce of composure I’d managed.
A man with dark hair met my gaze a little too intensely. Enough that I trampled Blake’s lead in our dance.
He stumbled a little before swinging me around. “What’s wrong.”
“I think Danny’s here.”
“Where?”
I slowly box stepped my way around so he could see what I had. “That’s Marina and Danny right?”
Blake’s shoulders tensed.
“Right?”
“Yes,” he said darkly.
“Marina’s from a very old family in Marblehead. It’s not like it’s out of the ordinary for her to be here.” Mostly, I wanted to finish out loud. The fact that Marina rarely moved in the art circles had to just be coincidence.
“There you are, Grace. Come over here please.” Phil’s voice cut through our conversation.
Blake led me to the sidelines of the dance floor, until we were well away from the others. “It’s nice to see you Mrs. Stanwick.”
“Merry Christmas, darling.” Phil enveloped me in a Chanel scented hug. “I’m so glad you brought your beau.”
What exactly was I supposed to say about that? The last time Phil had seen us we’d been sneaking out of the frame room. “We’ve been so busy, we figured it was the best way to see you before the holidays completely got away from us.”
“Me too, darling. It’s been a whirlwind year. I can’t believe we’re almost to New Year’s.”
I smiled. “I know. I agree. When I got your invite I knew it was the perfect way to see you.”
“I know it’s a hard time right now. The first holiday without a loved one is always the worst. I want you to come to my house for Christmas. I don’t want you to be alone.”
I gave her smile and curled my arm through Blake’s. “I’m not. Don’t worry.”
“So I see.”
Was I seeing things that simply weren’t there, or had Phil’s lips pursed at my news?
“Nothing against you, Mr. Carson, but I was hoping that my honorary granddaughter was holed up in a studio working on more pieces for my gallery. Not working for you.”
“It’s quite all right. I admit that I’ve been monopolizing Grace’s time, but don’t worry she’s still working on fresh pieces. In fact, we have one right now for you.”
“Now?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes. It’s something special I wanted to show you. Can we go in the back so I can show it to you?”
“Of course. I can leave my own party for a few moments, especially if there’s something in it for me.” Her gold ringed fingers fluttered over the beaded bodice of her jet black dress.
“I know how you love presents.”
“I don’t have yours here though. I was hoping to have you out to the house with us for Christmas.”
“I couldn’t wait to give it to you.”
She lead them back to her office and swept in. “Come in. My space is your space.”
I spotted the charging station full of iPads and my belly tightened. Perfect. I opened my clutch and pulled out the slim envelope. “It’s not wrapped, but I think you’ll forgive my little faux pas when you see it.”
Blake eased the glass out of the wrapper and flipped it around for Phil to look at.
She gasped and held the piece up before crossing the room to her true light stand. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Blake’s speciality is security glass. He let me take a stab at an etching on it.” I backed up to her desk and unplugged one of the iPads before I leaned against the mahogany with an indulgent smile.
Blake explained the glass and brought Phil to her window to show her the way the etching changed in different lights. I slid the iPad off the station and into my purse before turning around to follow them.
“I can’t wait to work with it. I thought I’d tease you with a Christmas gift. You know, to whet your appetite for more.”
“Well, you certainly did. This is gorgeous. You’ll be able to make amazing things with it. I can’t wait to sell them all. You’re going to make me a mint!”
I laughed. “Always the bottom line.”
Philomena shrugged. “It is a business, but you are my favorite artist. That has to count for something.”
“Oh, it does.”
Blake rested his hand at the small of my back. “Shall we get back? We don’t want the natives to get restless because we stole away their hostess.”
“I don’t really care. I can’t wait to put this up. I’m going to create something special at the front of the gallery.”
“I’d be honored.” The words stuck in my jaw, but I managed to spit them out.
“I simply love it. Merry Christmas, darling.” She swooped in and hugged me tight. It took everything inside me not to push her back. To rail at her for lying to me since the beginning of my career.
She drew us back into the room and dragged us to the nearest waiter with a tray of champagne. “To your amazing talent!”
Blake smiled and locked his fingers with mine. It was the only way I could choke down my drink.
Lies everywhere.
I had to get out of there.
“It’s been a very long week. Would you mind if we begged off the rest of the night.”
“Oh, but you haven’t even eaten yet.”
“I know, but you know me. I’m
not for the finger food stuff.”
She turned to Blake with a shake of her head. “Annabelle and I tried to raise her right, but she still loves junk over the finer foods.”
He brushed a kiss to my temple. “I keep her well stocked with pizza and Thai food.”
“That he does.”
Out.
Now.
Please.
“All right. You go home and get some rest. Christmas day at my house though. No arguments.”
I nodded. I’d say anything now. I’d never go to her house and spend time with her after what I knew now. Never.
Blake gathered me in and steered me to where we’d checked our coats. The clutch practically burning in my hands as we waited for the attendant.
“A few minutes more.”
I nodded.
He held my coat up for me and took my clutch so I could put my other arm in. “We’re out of here. You did amazing.”
“Oscar winning performance,” I muttered as we swung through the doors and outside. I turned back to look at the lights and laughing people and caught Danny Donnelly talking to Philomena.
God, I hoped it was Oscar worthy.
“Can we go home?”
“Yes. We can go home.”
“No, to my home.” Okay, technically it was Blake’s but right now I couldn’t handle anything else. I needed the familiar and the water to even me out.
“Grace…”
“I know, but I need my grandmother’s house right now. I need the ocean.”
He nodded. “All right.”
“Thank you.”
The trip to my house was silent. Tension flowed off of Blake, but he was willing to do what I needed. When we got inside I noticed the changes to the house right away. Security had been increased and there was electricity, praise be.
I climbed the stairs to my old room and found a few steamer trunks there. He hadn’t taken all of my belongings out yet. I shed the dress and the sexy lingerie in favor of my old overalls and a stain splattered T-shirt.
Little pieces of Blake had infused the house with the unfamiliar. A large bookcase, furniture, and other manly items didn’t fit in with the ultra-feminine memories I had of my home.
He’d had the broken window panes fixed and my eyes misted when the stained glass had been replaced exactly as I’d made them.
I moved out to the porch, lured by the sound of the ocean. The white crests of the waves soothed me like nothing else. The insides of my home might be changing, but this one thing never would.
The view that I’d grown up with. Even as a small child this had been my safe place. My parents had moved everywhere and didn’t think twice about leaving me behind with Annabelle when it suited them.
And finally they just left me here for good. Instead of feeling abandoned, I’d felt found for the first time in my life. Now it seemed like the same thing was happening.
Blake came up behind me. “It’s cold out here.”
“I know, but just a few minutes more.”
“As long as you want, Grace.”
He stood behind me until the tide roared up the beach and drifted over the eroded rocks at the edge of our property. Then I led him inside and brought him to my grandmother’s room.
The four poster bed was the only thing I hadn’t been able to remove from the house. It was simply too big. I gathered up a few quilts and he held me through the night.
When the early gray of morning swept in over the water, he finally stirred. “I need to go into the office.”
“Now you have the iPad for Jack.”
“I do. And I’ll make sure he gets it right away.”
I nodded. “Good.”
“Are you coming in?”
“I need a little time.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone.”
“I know. I see you’ve got the security all set up. And if I know you—and I do—you’ve got it rigged up with cameras.”
He sighed. “I do.”
“Then you know I’ll be safe. I saw the Chapel boxes in the entryway. There’s not a corner you left to chance I’m sure.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“I’ll come in before lunch, I promise.”
“If you don’t I’ll be at the door to drag you in.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
He leaned in and kissed me softly. “I called a car for me, so you can take the Rover in.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
I dozed as I heard him moving around. I hadn’t slept much through the night and when I was conscious again it was closer to ten in the morning.
I looked around the room. Most of the furniture had been removed and the paintings that had been here forever had left rings on the walls. I slipped out of the nest of quilts I’d created and went over to the large built in that surrounded my grandmother’s picture window.
I traced the little mermaid that I’d carved for her during my woodworking phase in college. I never strayed far from the glass and lead that I loved, but I did have to learn other mediums. I slid my thumb along the scales of her tail and felt a click.
I frowned.
It had never done that before.
I pressed harder and a spring popped. More secrets. I shook my head and opened the little door. There was another hinge hidden inside. I flipped that open and found a sheaf of papers and something wrapped in oil cloth.
I opened the papers, but they were filled with legal jargon and lost my interest immediately. There was a smaller envelope, but the golden edge of the object in the oil cloth captured my attention.
I flipped it back and gasped.
Recognition was instantaneous. There was no way that I couldn’t recognize it. I stared at it a few times a week when I walked the wharf during my lunches.
The clock.
Blake’s clock. The cornerstone of his empire was in my grandmother’s home.
With shaking fingers I made myself read the papers. The contracts, and the legalese blurred as tears coasted down my cheeks.
His name.
Blake Carson scribbled at the end of the contract for money.
My grandmother’s money.
One million dollars of my grandmother’s money. Rage spiraled through my bones and shook through my fingers. The clock rattled in my hands as I blindly tore through the house and out the door.
Fifteen
Blake
“So you’re not coming for Christmas. Even though this is the first holiday you’ve actually had someone in your life, you won’t spare some time for your mother.”
I tipped back at the desk in my home office and searched for patience. “Mom, I don’t know what our plans are yet. Since this is our first holiday together, I don’t want to put pressure on her.”
“You mean put pressure on you, to actually be part of a family and do regular family things?”
I sat up straight. “Right, that’s me. Incapable of being part of a family. We’ll just forget all those years I wanted nothing but.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s just all the time on the cruise gave me a chance to think, and I want you and Grace to be a bigger part of our lives. I made some mistakes with you, but we can fix them now. I want to fix them.”
My gaze sharpened as I stared at the watercolor of the Boston Harbor over my desk. Though it was my office, I rarely used it, especially now that Grace lived with me. I enjoyed sitting on the couch with her so much more than shutting myself away in this austere place.
But after the night we’d spent at the beach house after the gallery party, she was sorting through some of her grandmother’s possessions. Not out of sentimentality. No, as always she was on the hunt for answers. Meanwhile I was doing my level best not to study the security app that linked into the Stuart place to make sure she was okay.
The app was a concession, one Grace had allowed me simply because I think she found my over the top protectiveness endearing. When she wasn’t
finding it stifling or annoying as hell.
I’d take what I could get.
Speaking of taking, taking my mother’s phone call had not been the smartest move. I still had miles of data from the thumb drive to sort through and didn’t have time to waste on the phone.
Except for one salient point.
“You just came back from a cruise? Alone?”
She sighed again. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you? No, Brant and I took a week cruise to the Mediterranean. We’re barely off the boat, but I wanted to talk to you. We need to heal this rift, sweetie.”
It probably made me a bad son, and I’d be sure to buy her an extra lavish gift to make up for it, but I wasn’t thinking about rifts or healing or anything beyond what it meant that Brant had been on a boat in the middle of the ocean for the past week.
Specifically, he couldn’t have been the one who had broken into our home.
“I have been listening. Mostly,” I admitted. “There’s been a lot going on, and I’m preoccupied.”
“I knew it! You’re going to propose! Does this mean I can finally look forward to grandbabies?”
I nearly upended my chair. “Say what? No. Dear God. No.”
“To which part?”
“Any of it. All of it.” I tried not to sound as aghast as I felt.
We were in the middle of a possible murder investigation. A suspicious death at the very least, if Annabelle had died due to natural causes. I was seriously starting to doubt that. The timing of her passing had been a little too convenient, and conveniences only came at the value price of twice the going rate at corner stores.
Marriage and children were not on the agenda. Sweet Jesus.
“We’ve only been dating for a short time,” I managed once I’d recovered.
Actually, we hadn’t even had a real date yet. Our one attempt had ended in a break-in and truly spectacular sex in my four-seasons room.
That probably counted as our version of romance, all things considered.
“I’m just saying it’s a consideration down the line. I’m not getting any younger, Blake. Give an old woman something to look forward to in her declining years.”
I fumbled in my desk drawer for my ubiquitous bottle of aspirin. “And that consists of my engaging in a marital union and reproducing?”