Summer Heat

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Summer Heat Page 12

by A. C. Arthur


  Sam had just dropped his bag onto the chair and turned back to her with what he knew was a frown on his face. “What important people? And why didn’t she just call me at home or on my cell?”

  “Who? Karena or her assistant?”

  He was not in the mood for Bree’s questioning right now. Thanks to her, he’d endured the third degree from the family enough yesterday at brunch.

  “Who are the people in her office? Does it have to do with the painting?”

  “I suppose so because she wants to know if you can come to the city ASAP.”

  That wasn’t even a question. Of course he was going to the city to see what was going on. But first, he wanted to know what he was walking into. So picking up the phone, he hurriedly dialed the number to the gallery.

  The phone was answered on the second ring. “Hi, Astrid, this is Sam Desdune, is Karena available?”

  “Hi, Sam, no, she’s not available. She’s been closed in her office with the prince and princess and Monica for over an hour.”

  “The prince and princess?” Sam was confused.

  “Yes. They came in early this morning from Brazil. They want to know how she came across their painting.”

  “Dammit!” Sam swore. Bree had been tracing the painting but hadn’t come across any official ownership information besides the appraisers’ reports, almost as if the ownership itself was being kept a secret. “I’ll be there inside the hour,” he snapped and was about to hang up the phone when another thought hit him. “Astrid, can you tell me the prince’s and princess’s name or where they’re actually from?”

  “Sure, I wrote it down,” she paused and Sam heard papers shuffling in the background. “Here it is, Felipe and Izabel de Carriero from Pirata.”

  Sam couldn’t help the small smile that ghosted his lips. “Thanks. Get a message to Karena that I’m on my way.” He pressed the release button on the phone then grabbed another line and began dialing numbers once more.

  “What’s going on, Sam? Who are you calling now?” Bree asked.

  “Your brother-in-law,” he said then quickly asked the person who answered the phone for Alex Bennett while Bree stared at him quizzically.

  “Sam, my man, what’s got you calling me this early on a Monday morning?” Alex Bennett answered in a voice more jovial than he gave any of his employees.

  The oldest brother of the Bennett clan, Alex was determined, authoritative and focused. He loved his family but he probably loved his job as CEO of Bennett Industries even more. Still, when things had gotten sticky with the Bennett stalking, Alex had proved himself as a family man and a force to be reckoned with. And since Bree had married Alex’s younger brother, Renny, they’d all seamlessly shifted into the in-law status, sharing lots of family gatherings together.

  “Hey, Alex. Sorry to bother you, but I think I have something you might be interested in going on.” In addition to being ambitious and determined to run the best damned communications firm on the East Coast, Alex was also dogged about preserving his family’s heritage.

  “Yeah? What’s up?”

  “Long story short, I have a client who may have purchased a stolen painting from an artist living in Brazil. This morning a Prince Felipe de Carriero and his wife showed up at my client’s office claiming ownership of the painting.”

  “De Carriero?” Alex asked immediately.

  “That’s why I called. Can you spare a few hours to head into the city with me? I want to check them out, check out their story because there are too many imposters moving around in this case.”

  “Sure. No doubt I want to check this out, too. Let me get my secretary to clear my schedule. I can be at your office in ten minutes and we can ride in together. Or do you just want me to meet you there?”

  “Yeah, why don’t you just get on the road after you get your schedule squared away. I want to leave right away. Karena shouldn’t have to deal with them by herself, and I don’t want her father coming in and stirring up more trouble. Call Bree when you’re set to leave and she can give you the address and directions.”

  “No problem.”

  “Thanks, Alex.”

  “Don’t mention it. See you in a little while.”

  Sam disconnected and reached for his bag. Bree was on his heels as he headed out of the office.

  “So why did you call Alex and where are you going?”

  He couldn’t not answer her. Besides, he needed her to keep digging into this guy Leandro’s history. “The prince and princess of Pirata are in New York. It seems our mysterious painting might be theirs.”

  “Pirata? That’s where Renny’s mother is from.”

  “And that’s why I called Alex. If there’s a relation between the prince and princess to the Bennetts, he’ll know. And that relation might just give us the insight into this case that we need to find out who sold Karena the portrait. So when Alex calls back, give him the directions to the gallery. Then I want you to trace Leandro’s family, find out where he comes from, who he knows and how it’s connected to the prince and princess, and text me the info.”

  Bree was already nodding her head.

  “Where’s Bailey?” Sam asked just as he was about to walk through the door. It was the first time he noticed she wasn’t in the office, and Bailey was usually the first one in every morning.

  “Don’t know.” Bree shrugged. “I haven’t seen or heard from her since yesterday when she left the restaurant. I was going to call her a little later if she didn’t show up.”

  Sam didn’t like the sound of that. “Call her now and make sure she’s all right.” Then he was out the door and headed to his car.

  Bree could only shake her head as she watched her brother pull out of the parking lot. That was Sam, one of her closest friends besides her husband. Nobody knew him like she did. That’s why her heart gave a little flutter as she realized what was happening here. Sam was falling in love with Karena Lakefield, if not already knee-deep in the sticky emotion already.

  He was also worried about Bailey, which wasn’t a good sign. When Sam worried, there was usually good reason to. And Sam would be determined to fix whatever Bailey’s problem was, just as he’d had to fix Bree’s problem with the older man who had ruined her military career and tried to take her life. And just as he was going to be the hero and save the day for Karena. It was just what Sam did, and he did it so well Bree couldn’t help but be proud of him.

  She only hoped this Karena Lakefield knew what a great guy she had falling for her.

  Once again walking through the doors of the Lakefield Galleries, Sam smiled at Astrid, who pointed him toward Karena’s office.

  He was just about to knock when Paul Lakefield stepped up behind him.

  “I thought your office had this under control, Mr. Desdune,” he said in his heavy voice.

  Sam turned, trying like hell not to let the things Karena had shared with him about her father pepper his dealings with the man. As he’d told Karena, he found it hard to believe that a man like Paul Lakefield didn’t love his daughters. It just appeared he wanted to keep the women in his life in a certain place. That wasn’t an entirely bad thing, just a pitifully stupid one.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Lakefield. As I assured you before, my firm is on top of the investigation.”

  “Then why didn’t we know before now that the painting my daughter purchased belonged to the prince of Pirata?”

  “Because for whatever reason the prince didn’t want his ownership to be known until now.”

  “That’s preposterous. Why would it be a secret?”

  “I don’t know, sir. That’s what I intend to find out now.”

  “I don’t want our name dragged through the mud over this. So you need to do whatever you can to keep that from happening.”

  “D&D Investigations is not into public relations, Mr. Lakefield. We’ll find who sold the stolen painting to Karena and we’ll find out the reason behind the secrecy in ownership. The rest, however, is up to you. Al
though, I might as well tell you that I don’t think there’s going to be any negative publicity on your end.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because if they wanted to, the prince and princess could have already gone to the press with the fact that your gallery had purchased their stolen painting. It’s been my experience that people don’t take kindly to the theft of their property. The mere fact that we couldn’t uncover the true ownership of the painting right off the bat tells me that there is more going on here than we know. More that has to do with the prince and princess protecting themselves or someone they know. And if that’s the case, then they won’t want this leaking to the press any more than you do.”

  Paul simply stared at him, as if trying to register the words Sam said. More like trying to judge the man who was speaking them to him. He didn’t know how to take Sam, probably because Sam hadn’t cowered to the older man’s intimidating glares or authoritative tone from the beginning. In a lot of ways, Paul Lakefield reminded Sam of his own father. He was proud and distinguished and wanted what every man wanted for his family. Unfortunately, Sam thought, Lakefield was going about achieving that goal the wrong way. But this was neither the time nor the place to tell him that.

  “You aren’t quite what I expected,” Paul admitted to Sam finally.

  Sam tried not to shrug. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or an insult.”

  Paul simply nodded. “It’s definitely not an insult, son. As for the compliment, well, that remains to be seen. Shall we?” he said, reaching for the doorknob leading to Karena’s office.

  Sam inhaled and followed behind him. This was the man who was breaking Karena's heart, the man who by his actions was standing in the way of Sam's future with her. But for some odd reason, Sam couldn't find it in himself to dislike him. Go figure.

  Chapter 17

  If anybody ever asked, Karena would deny it until the day she died. But to herself, she had no choice but to admit seeing Sam walk through the door ahead of her father sent waves of relief washing through her body.

  For the past hour, she and Monica had been speaking with the de Carrieros of Pirata, royalty with heavy South American accents and easy smiles.

  Izabel was a lovely woman, tall and thinly built. Her long, flowing jet-black hair fell in thick waves down her back, held away from her face with diamond-encrusted combs. Her olive-toned skin was a complementary backdrop to deep brown eyes, and her ready smile had put Karena instantly at ease.

  Felipe, as he’d asked her and Monica to call him, was taller than his wife, towering well above six feet in Karena’s estimation. He wore a dark-colored suit that only made his darker complexion more apparent. On the lapel of his jacket was a green-and-yellow swatch of material covered with a gold brooch that Karena assumed was his family’s official insignia. His hair was thick and wavy like his wife’s but a lot less shiny.

  They both sat in chairs pulled closer together, looking regal and at home at the same time.

  Monica had a chair pulled on the same side of the desk as Karena. When Sam and her father walked in, Karena stood. So did Prince Felipe.

  “Sam Desdune from D&D Investigations,” Sam said, his glance moving over Karena swiftly then leaving reluctantly as he extended his hand to the prince. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”

  The prince took Sam’s hand in a hearty shake. “Please. You must call me Felipe. And this,” he said, motioning for her to stand, “is my wife, Izabel.”

  “Princess,” Sam said, taking her hand and bringing it his lips.

  Izabel smiled and Karena’s heart began to race. He was just as good with royalty as he was with her and her staff.

  “I’m Paul Lakefield, owner of Lakefield Galleries,” her father said and was about to say something else when, to Karena’s surprise, her mother walked in.

  Well, well, well, the gang’s all here, she thought to herself and tried not to sigh with frustration. Must everybody be here to witness her mistake?

  “And I’m Noreen Lakefield, Paul’s wife.”

  The prince and princess exchanged pleasantries and handshakes with the Lakefields. Astrid was called to bring in more chairs, but the astute receptionist suggested they simply move the meeting down the hall to the conference room.

  Karena readily agreed with that idea and led the small crowd down the hall. As she walked, Sam came to stand beside her.

  “Don’t look so worried. We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” he said seriously, reaching for the door to the conference room before she could and holding it open while she entered.

  His words were even more comforting than his presence, and she mentally chastised herself for thinking that way. She shouldn’t depend on him, shouldn’t need him to get through this.

  Once they were all seated, Sam took the lead.

  “I understand you’re here about the painting,” he began.

  “Yes,” Prince Felipe said, holding up a hand to stop Sam from continuing. “And let me just explain how this has all come about. I am afraid it is partially my fault.”

  Karena held her breath, dreading the upcoming words. Sam scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his as they both waited.

  “About four years ago my wife and I made a discovery. Our young son, Cezar, had a talent for painting. We did not pay the talent enough attention.” Felipe sighed, his dark eyes looking sad for a moment. “To be honest, we did not pay it any attention at all. It was a hobby of his. We did not mind it so much as long as he did his schoolwork and studied his legacy.”

  “We should have supported him more,” Izabel said quietly.

  Karena watched as the pretty woman clenched her hands in her lap. She did not look down, as Karena had expected a princess to do while in the company of her husband. A foolish notion, she knew, especially given the way she felt about her mother always taking the stance behind her father. But this was royalty and she knew the rules of their game were vastly different from Americans’.

  Still, Izabel de Carriero looked around at the women, her eyes melancholy but intelligent and aware of the mistake she felt she’d made.

  Felipe nodded, reached down and squeezed his wife’s hand.

  Simultaneously, Sam squeezed hers.

  “Cezar was very passionate about his painting. So much that he sold one to a lady in our village. That lady gave the painting to a relative who lived in the United States. Then the lady began to get requests for more paintings. Cezar painted more and gave them to the lady.”

  Karena was stunned but didn’t feel like everything had quite clicked into place.

  “He has been painting and selling the pictures for three years now.”

  “But the painting we purchased was signed by an artist named Leandro,” Monica said, her elegantly arched brows drawing close together in consternation.

  Izabel smiled. “Cezar’s second name is Leandro. He signed his portraits with that name so we would not know what he was doing. So that everyone would not know the paintings came from a royal.”

  Karena sat back in her chair with a sigh. She was speechless.

  “How old is Cezar?” Sam asked.

  “He is fourteen this month,” Felipe said with a small smile. “Last week he came to us to admit what he had been doing. Feeling like fools, Izabel and I asked to see his studio. It was when he was showing us that he found a painting missing.”

  Finally pulling herself together, Karena spoke. “I don’t understand. If nobody knew that Cezar was Leandro, how did the appraiser’s report mention the royals?”

  “Cezar has only the best materials. The paints and canvases he uses are obtained only by persons of wealth in our village. Royals. In his signature, right in the center of the a, he also drops a dot of fourteen-karat gold then presses it with a small replica of our seal.” Felipe patted the insignia covering his chest pocket. “If you look closely, it will match this.”

  Paul rubbed his head then stood. “On behalf of my daughter and the Lakefield
Galleries, I offer you and your family my apologies. We will return your merchandise immediately.”

  “No,” Izabel responded, immediately coming out of her seat. “You do not understand. Cezar is good. His paintings should be shared with the world. We want them to be shared.”

  “Yes.” Felipe nodded. “We want you to keep them and show them in your gallery.”

  “Are you sure?” Karena asked, flabbergasted at the turn of events.

  “Perfectly,” Izabel answered with a smile.

  “Then we will pay you,” Paul said, hastily reaching into his breast pocket for his checkbook.

  “No. No.” Felipe shook his head. “We will not hear of it. I know who took the painting. I will settle the matter when I return.”

  “We’d like to find the thief, as well,” Sam said.

  “No. There is more you do not understand. I must deal with him myself.”

  At that, there was a knock at the door. All eyes turned in that direction as Alexander Bennett walked in.

  Chapter 18

  “Alex!” Felipe smiled as he embraced his nephew.

  Alexander Bennett, with his deep-brown skin and inky black hair, hugged Felipe back. “Good to see you again, Felipe.”

  “What’s going on?” Monica had moved to Karena’s side. “And who is he?”

  It was Sam who answered. “Alexander Bennett. He’s the CEO of Bennett Industries. His mother is from Brazil.”

  Monica eyed Alex suspiciously. Remembering their first conversation regarding Alex and Monica possibly hooking up, Karena watched her sister’s reaction to the man carefully.

  “So what’s this I hear about stolen paintings?” Alex said after he’d hugged and kissed Izabel and all other introductions were made.

  “It is Cezar. He has been painting and selling the paintings. We did not know until last week.”

  “Little C?” Alex asked, apparently surprised. “Wow, I had my secretary pull some photos off the Internet. This Leandro’s paintings are really good. I mean, Little C really has talent. Why the big secret?”

 

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