“Does Dunn strike you as the type to commission a theft?”
“You said he’s a lawyer.”
She didn’t explain her point.
“And?”
“Well, I guess I like to think lawyers don’t commit crimes.”
“Okay, let’s just think of him as a man, not a lawyer. Does Eric Dunn seem like the type of man, the type of art collector, who would pay someone to steal something for him?”
“Yes,” she said immediately.
“You didn’t even have to think about it.”
“Talking about him as an art collector, he’s very proud of his collection, very protective of it. He seems possessive and entitled, too. I don’t think it’s about the money with him; it’s about the rarity and uniqueness of the piece and about having it. The egg is a good example.”
“The Russian egg,” I said, thinking. “Like Caroline Marks’s Russian egg. Caroline Marks, the woman who was recently murdered, presumably by the same person who murdered Mitchell and Melissa Conrad.”
“What does one have to do with the other?”
“I’m not sure. How rare are those eggs?”
“Not extremely, but close. There are maybe two dozen remaining throughout the world. Why?”
“If they’re rare, like you say, what are the odds of two of the only twenty-four in the world being in Colorado, and particularly in the same city in Colorado?”
She seemed to take my meaning. Spinning around in the chair, she got on the Internet and searched for Caroline Marks’s private collection. She found a website dedicated to the collection, with extensive photos of each piece as well as lengthy descriptions and histories. In true Caroline Marks fashion, she had made her collection known to the world so everyone could enjoy and learn about it. And knowing what I did about her, I believed she was the type of person who would have personally given you a tour of her collection if you’d asked. I wondered, then, why Eric Dunn had never seen it, as he claimed.
She scrolled through the pages until she found the one she wanted. She clicked on the icon, and a huge photo of Caroline’s Russian egg filled the screen. I was no expert, but it looked to me like the same one I’d seen at Dunn’s. After looking at the photo carefully for several minutes, seeing details with her artist’s eye that I would never see, she finally looked up.
“I say it’s a match.”
“Let’s read the history,” I suggested, wanting just a little more confirmation.
She scrolled down and began reading aloud.
“… handcrafted by a little-known metalsmith and designed specifically for the last czar of Russian to present to his wife.” She stopped reading and looked up. “Looks like Eric has Caroline Marks’s Russian egg in his house.”
“I can’t help but wonder how it got there.”
__________
Susan and Vince, whatever else Vince was, were good cooks. I knew this just by looking at the dishes on the table. After only the second dish had passed, I was running out of room on my plate.
“We were talking about seeing a movie tonight,” Susan said, smiling. “Would either of you girls like to join us?”
“Tonight?” Natalie asked. “Oh, uh, I can’t. I’ve got papers to grade for Monday.”
“I thought you finished those,” Vince said.
“No,” Natalie said, scooping up a rather big bite. “I didn’t.” Then she was busy chewing.
“Zoe? What about you?” Susan asked.
Vince looked irritated at the invitation. Clearly he didn’t want my company. Lucky for him, I had more pressing things to attend to.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t. I have to work.”
Natalie launched into the story of her tour of McKinnon’s art collection, and a few minutes later I heard the front door. Vince had heard it, too, and shot me an annoyed look. I thought Vince and I were heading toward words, and I wondered if we’d make it through dinner. I hoped we could, because I didn’t think I wanted Ellmann—or the others—around when it happened.
“Hey, look, you made it!” Susan beamed at him, waving a hand at the empty seat and plate beside me. “I hope you’re hungry. We made way too much food.”
“Yeah, I’m starving,” Ellmann said, pulling out the chair and sitting.
But, then, Ellmann’s pretty much always starving.
As he said his hellos, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, kissing my head. When he released me and I sat back up, I noticed Vince’s face looked particularly dark.
“How was shopping?” Ellmann asked.
Natalie jumped into the story of the art collections again. The rest of the family ate and listened. Ellmann managed to seem remotely interested. Impressive, considering how many chunks of hair he had sticking up.
“What did the rest of you do?” he asked when she’d paused to take a breath. “Dad? Make it to play golf?”
“Yeah, Dad,” Natalie said, as if noticing him for the first time. “You’ve been kind of quiet since we got here.”
He shrugged and speared a piece of chicken with his fork. “I’ve got nothing to say,” he said to his plate.
Natalie scoffed. “You always have something to say. What’s going on?”
Ellmann put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. He seemed to have picked up the same vibe I had. Not that it was hard to miss. Vince didn’t do subtle.
“Dad, you invited us to dinner,” Ellmann said. “Both of us.”
“No, dinner was Susan’s idea,” Vince said.
An uncomfortable tension settled over the table. I was beginning to really like Susan, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand what she saw in Vince. And I couldn’t figure out why he seemed to hate me. He’d just met me, and before he’d called on Thursday, he hadn’t spoken to his son in almost a year. Why the sudden interest?
The direction of this little family dinner seemed pretty clear. I’d only agreed to come in effort to reach out, for Ellmann’s benefit. I had plenty of other things to do, and I was running out of time to do them anyway.
I looked at my watch.
“You know what?” I said, pushing my chair back and standing up. “I forgot I made plans. Thank you for dinner—it was delicious—but I don’t want to be late.”
“Oh, no,” Susan said. “You haven’t even finished. Can you reschedule? We’d love you to stay.”
Was she really not picking up on any of this? Or did she just expect me to put up with Vince like she did?
Ellmann stood and stared at his father. “What is your problem?”
He was mad. Ellmann doesn’t yell. I’ve never heard him raise his voice. But he’s still able to get it across when he’s mad. And while I really like that Ellmann never yells, sometimes I think his un-yelling voice is worse. Susan certainly didn’t like it, and even Natalie seemed a little on edge. It didn’t seem to faze Vince, though.
“Your new girlfriend,” Vince answered evenly, leaning back and looking up at his son. “Since when do cops shack up with criminals? I certainly don’t like having one at my dinner table.”
“This is my dinner table,” Ellmann said, pounding a finger on the table with enough force to make the silverware tremble. “And after all the things you’ve done, you have no right to sit in judgment.”
“The things I’ve done? Do you have any idea what she’s done? I called an old Army buddy of mine, had him do some digging. Tell me, son, how well do you know your girlfriend?”
Then I saw it. Vince knew. He knew my deepest, darkest secret. The same fear and disgust I saw in everyone’s eyes when they knew burned in his now, right behind some twisted kind of satisfaction.
“This isn’t about her,” Ellmann snapped. “It’s about you. You’re a lousy father. Maybe you’re trying to be a better one because you’re getting married again, but let me be the first to tell you, you suck at it. So stop trying. You’ll do less damage if you take a hands-off approach.”
Ellmann stepped back, pushed his empty c
hair under the table, and then looked at Susan. “Sorry about dinner. I appreciate the effort, but I think Zoe and I will grab a bite somewhere else.”
“Of course,” she said with a nod. “And I’m sorry, too. I would have liked to spend some time with you two, gotten to know you a little, before our flight tomorrow morning.”
“Some oth—”
“You have no idea what she’s done,” Vince accused again, cutting Ellmann off. “Susan, she’s dangerous. She’s a ki—”
“Hey!” I snapped, charging forward and banging a fist on the table, causing not only the tableware but also all three women seated around it to jump. Ellmann may never yell, but I do. As Vince whipped around to face me, I saw fear competing for dominance in his eyes.
“You have a problem with me, Vince, fine. But you come straight at me, like a man. Don’t hide behind these people; they have nothing to do with this.”
I was distantly aware, in the logical side of my brain, that my anger and pride were greatly affecting my approach. The very last thing I wanted was for Vince to blurt out my little secret right here in front of Susan, who I was coming to like, Natalie, who may or may not have liked me better today than when she first met me, and Courtney, who I, perhaps naïvely, believed was still too young to know such evil things happened in this world. Only two people had ever learned this secret and not run away in terror or disgust. So this secret would put me on the outs with Ellmann’s family for good. And while no one’s relationship with their significant other’s family was perfect, this seemed like the antithesis of ideal.
“Don’t want your dirty little secret getting out, hmm?” Vince said, his tone taunting. But his eyes still betrayed his fear. “Too bad, because this is a family issue. And we don’t keep secrets in this family.”
Ellmann scoffed.
“That’s a big fat lie, Vince,” I said. “You and I both know it.”
Susan and Natalie both looked between Vince and me, open curiosity and confusion on their faces. Courtney was watching with more excitement and interest than she’d shown since I’d met her. Vince wanted to believe I was guessing, but his guilt wouldn’t let him, not enough to challenge me. Now, of course, I wondered what secrets he wanted to keep hidden.
“This is about safety,” Vince said, trying a new approach. He shot a look at Ellmann. “How do you know you’re safe? How can you let her in this house, around us?”
“Enough,” Ellmann ordered. “Whatever you think you know, you don’t know her. As usual, you’ve made a judgment without actually getting to know someone. Zoe is a good person. She cares about people, and she tries to help them.”
“Help them?” Vince scoffed. “When did she start helping people? When she was twelve—”
“Don’t do this,” Ellmann said in his low, un-yelling voice.
It was obvious Vince wouldn’t back down. He’d either spill what he knew now or wait until Ellmann and I left. There was really only one move left for me to make.
“When I was twelve,” I said, resentment burning in my voice, “I found my father attempting to molest my younger brother.”
Ellmann pinched his eyes closed then shook his head. “You don’t have to do this,” he said softly to me.
“Yes, I do. Vince saw to that.”
Ellmann shifted his weight from foot to foot, and I reached out, putting a hand on his arm. He sighed in frustration and defeat and dragged a hand back through his hair.
“I tried to stop him,” I went on, looking straight at Vince. “My father was a horribly abusive man; I had seventeen broken bones in middle school alone.”
Susan gasped and clamped a hand over her open mouth. Natalie seemed to have lost some of her color. Courtney didn’t seem to fully appreciate what this meant, but she was still watching and listening with unabashed interest.
“When I butted in that night, he tried to beat me. I fought back, and he said he would kill me. He came at me with a baseball bat, so I knew he was serious. I managed to get my hands on a gun. I shot him.”
Susan was staring at me with wide eyes brimming with tears, her hand still pressed over her mouth. Natalie was white as a sheet. I saw fear and horror in both of them. And my heart broke, like it always did. In that moment, I hated Vince.
“You killed him,” Vince said, leaning forward and pointing an accusatory finger at me.
“I defended myself and my seven-year-old brother,” I said, leaning with both hands on the table and staring at Vince head-on.
“You killed him,” he said again.
I stood. “What should I have done? Let him molest my brother? Let him kill me?” I shook my head. “How dare you judge me for something you can’t possibly understand.”
I turned and started out of the kitchen.
I heard a chair scrape behind me followed by Vince’s voice.
“But that wasn’t the only time, was it? Maybe you like killing people, because you killed a whole bunch more a couple months ago. And you almost beat a guy to death yesterday. There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
I spun around, hatred burning so hot in my gut I wanted to explode. I was trembling with the effort it took to remain where I was and not attack the bastard. Vince stood on the opposite side of the table, that same satisfaction in his eyes.
“You son of a bitch,” I breathed.
“That’s it,” Ellmann said, his voice darker than I’d ever heard it. He had one eye on me, no doubt knowing I was on the edge of losing control. “Do not miss your plane in the morning. And do not plan on visiting again.”
“Actually,” Susan said, throwing her napkin on the table and standing, “you need to book yourself a different flight. I don’t want to see you again until you’ve done some serious soul-searching. Courtney and I will go to the movie, and you better not be here when we get back.”
“Susan.” Vince was so shocked it was almost funny. “What are you talking about?”
Honestly, I was a little surprised myself. Apparently Susan had not had her head in the sand all this time. And she had the backbone to stand up to him. I couldn’t help but respect her for it.
“This cannot continue, Vince. This isn’t what I want in a husband. Out of respect for you, I’ve kept quiet since we’ve been here, letting you interact with your children your own way, even when it was against my better judgment. But this is too much. You’re grossly out of line, and I won’t tolerate it.”
“Too much? How can you say that? She’s a murderer! She’s killed people, even her own father!”
“Vincent, do not raise your voice to me. You better figure out why you’re so focused on this and let it go. Whatever happens to our relationship, Alex will always be your son. It’s clear his heart is set on Zoe. Since we met, you’ve told me your regrets about not being a better father, and your wish to be a better one. This is not how you become a better father. This will drive a wedge between you and your son, maybe permanently. If you’re going to step up and be the father you keep telling me you wish you’d been, you’d better figure out how to fix this. And quick.”
Vince took a step back, as if she’d struck him physically. “You’re going to choose a killer over me?”
“You’re not paying attention, Vince. This isn’t about me choosing sides. But you can be sure a father would never choose anything over his son. While you’re in your hotel room tonight, you should think about that.”
Vince stared at Susan for a beat, stunned and hurt, then spun around and stomped out of the kitchen.
Susan turned to me. “I know it’s not enough, but I am sorry. I should have spoken up sooner. Please don’t think whatever happened tonight has changed my opinion of you.”
I managed a nod. I wasn’t sure I believed her, but it didn’t matter just then.
Susan looked at Ellmann. “Would you like Courtney and me to leave tonight? We’d be happy to stay in a hotel.”
He shook his head. “No. That isn’t necessary.”
“I appreciate it. I’m sorry things
turned out this way.”
“Me too,” Ellmann said. “But they usually do with him. I have no idea what you see in him, but I hope it’s worth all this.”
Susan sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, that’s something I need to think long and hard about.”
Then Ellmann turned and looked at me. He walked over and stopped beside me. Then he slowly reached down and took my hand, kissed it, and held it tightly as he led me out of the house. Neither of us looked back, and we didn’t speak a word.
18
Ellmann pulled my truck door open.
“Zoe, I am so sorry. I had no idea.” He jerked a hand back through his hair. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head against his chest. “But I will be.”
He squeezed me tight and held me for a long minute, maybe two. I wanted to let him hold me for a while longer, but we were standing in the street outside his house. Vince would be leaving any time, and I didn’t want another encounter so soon. He might not escape a second time, and things were bad enough as they were.
“I have to go,” I said, gently pulling away from Ellmann. “I’m sorry about tonight. I should have dropped Natalie off and left. I didn’t know.”
“It’s my fault. I should have listened to you. You said you didn’t want to push it. You were right. I know how badly he hurt you.”
“No, it’s Vince’s fault. Let’s be clear about that.”
Ellmann nodded. “You’re right.”
“Incidentally, that part about the warrant, was that accurate?”
“I really don’t know. I’ve been holed up in a conference room with three FBI agents and six other cops all day. I know Vandreen pressed charges, but I have no idea where Simmons is at with things.”
“Guess I better mind the speed limit then,” I said. “Just in case.”
Ellmann gave a half smile then stepped into me again, this time pinning me against the truck. And he kissed me. Deeply, possessively. When he released me sometime later, I was perfectly content to blow off Danielle Dillon and drag Ellmann home.
Catherine Nelson - Zoe Grey 02 - The Trouble with Theft Page 22