The Chase

by Vanessa Fewings

  It was impossible to comprehend the reality of us staring at a 1508 origin of one of the world’s greatest treasures. The blue-white panel was cracked. But that took nothing away from the anatomically correct fingers nearly making contact and the profoundness that God had yet to touch Adam and yet, miraculously, his spiritual force had effortlessly breathed life into God’s creation of man.

  Tobias covered his face with his hands as though needing a moment to process what he was looking at.

  “It’s just that...” I strained to find the words.

  His expression was full of understanding. “Letting these go would be you finally saying goodbye to your dad.”

  Tears stung my eyes but I pushed them back. “Yes.”

  Tobias understood. He truly got the ridiculousness of a girl living in a West London flat keeping priceless art hidden away.

  “Oh, Zara.” He reached out and hugged me into him.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” I said.

  “All of them are.” He raised his hand to emphasize. “I’m lost for words.”

  “Dad had the Michelangelo privately authenticated in Italy. He would have made a fortune if he’d sold it. See, that’s why I don’t understand any of this. We never needed the money. Whatever his motivation wasn’t about that.”

  “Your dad was a remarkable man.”

  I looked over at the paintings again and my heart ached for the ones we’d lost. “If someone stole St. Joan before the fire and replaced it with a fake do you think my dad would have noticed?”

  He gave a slight shake of his head as if to say we’d never know.

  “I have to phone Christie’s,” I said.

  “Move forward cautiously.”

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  “They can’t stay here, Zara.”

  “Because of those thefts?”

  “No one knows you have these here.” He studied my face. “Right?”

  “My friend Clara does.”

  “You trust her?”

  “Of course.”

  He kissed the top of my head and I sensed that was his way of gentle encouragement. “Would you like them for The Wilder Museum?” I asked, my toes curling with the realization I was letting them go, finally.

  He let out a long rush of air. “That would be something.”

  “I have the paperwork. The provenance goes all the way back. It’s quite impressive. Dad had it in a box in his office safe.”

  “It survived the fire?”

  “Thank God. The only photos of my mom were in there. I can help arrange to have these shipped to America if you like? Get the paperwork started.”

  “That’s incredibly generous of you, but I think the best home for them is The Otillie. That way you can visit as much as you like. And know they’re safe.”

  “Yes, you’re right.”

  “Let’s take them over tonight?”

  I gazed at them lovingly. “Tomorrow. That way I get to enjoy them one final evening. When are you flying out?”

  “I’m pushing my travel plans for now.”

  I cupped my face with my hands as a thrill of happiness washed over me.

  He laughed brightly. “Miles Tenant is going to flip out when he sees what you have.”

  “Don’t tell him where I’ve had them hidden.”

  “It’ll be our secret.”

  “Hungry?”

  “I should probably go.” He took my hands and gave them a comforting squeeze. “I have an early meeting with a team of techies who flew in from Japan. Otherwise you couldn’t drag me away.”

  “Were you planning on flying out afterward?”

  “My schedule allows for versatility.”

  “Come on.” I pushed myself to my feet and reached for his hand. “I’ll make you some toast.”

  “How about a coffee?”

  “I can do that.”

  Tobias waited in the living room as I poured freshly brewed beans into the filter and turned on the coffeemaker.

  Staring out of the window, I tried to fathom this array of emotions sweeping over me. An overwhelming excitement that he felt the same way.

  This gorgeous, incredible man wanted to be with me...me?

  I searched my cupboards for that travel mug I rarely used. Within a few minutes I rejoined him.

  He was standing by my hallway table—

  Tobias was fully dressed now in that black bespoke well-fitting suit. I’d been too distracted to truly notice it yesterday, to see how gorgeous he looked during my crisis at Christie’s. He moved with a masculine refinement as he turned to look at me.

  “Hi.” I smiled.

  “Hi.” He gave a coy smile and turned away, his gaze finding the Jaeger file. “Are you part of this investigation?”

  “Yes, that’s why I was at Christie’s yesterday. To check on the provenance.” Dread swept over me that in the hours ahead I’d have to face my work colleagues and go over everything and try to make sense of this mystery.

  Tobias beamed my way when he saw the Sleeping Beauty travel cup I was holding.

  It was impossible not to admire his stature. He had a commanding presence and I took advantage of drawing on his strength.

  “Do you take sugar?” I asked.

  “No, thank you, though.” He took the mug from me. Tobias’s focus returned to the file and his frown deepened.

  “They had an Edvard Munch stolen,” I said. “Isn’t it terrible?”

  “May I?”

  I gestured he could.

  Tobias opened the file. “Everything is here?”

  I gave a nod. “The family is all set to submit their insurance claim.”

  “Any lead on the heist?”

  “No evidence left. That’s not been officially released yet. It was a professional job apparently.”

  “You found no discrepancy in their provenance?”

  “No.” I joined him by the table and stared down at the file. “Neither did Christie’s. Why?”

  Tobias frowned. “Jaeger’s a German name?”

  “Yes, but the Edvard Munch’s provenance was tracked through Norway.”

  “Interesting.” He peered down at the photo of Bill Jaeger’s grandfather standing before a marble fireplace. The man stared directly at the camera. A few paintings hung on the walls behind him including that Edvard Munch.

  Tobias turned the photo over and examined the paper. “Kodak?”

  “Kodak was making this photo paper back in 1888.”

  “You’ve thought of everything, then?” He gave a thin smile.

  “The police believe all those art thefts are connected in some way.”

  “Interesting.” His grin widened as he checked the lid on the Sleepy Beauty mug. “This won’t eviscerate my manhood at all.”

  “I make great coffee.”

  “Then it’s worth it.”

  I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you for everything.” Resting my head against his chest, I swooned when I felt his right arm wrap around me, and he kissed the top of my head as he held me.

  Reluctantly, I let go, not wanting to make him late.

  He shrugged on his coat and then reached for his scarf, wrapping it around his neck and giving the knot a European flair.

  “Last night...” I began.

  “Yes?”

  “Not sure I’d have made it out of Christie’s alone.”

  Tobias was seemingly lost in his thoughts. “I’m glad I was there.”

  He had been kind to me but my guard was still up and no matter how incredible last night had been, I had to remain realistic. Tobias had comforted me through the first night of what would no doubt become a terrible ordeal, and my joining the dots al
l wrong was going to end in heartache if I wasn’t careful.

  And my father’s legacy was about to lead me on into hell.

  “I meant what I said, Zara.” Tobias raised his chin. “The art world doesn’t intimidate me like it does you. I make my own rules. You’ve nothing to be frightened of.”

  Yet facing the day could only be held back for so long.

  After opening the front door for him I leaned against the doorjamb and wrapped my arms around myself. It was impossible to grasp that he still wanted to be with me.

  He slid past me. “I’ll call you, okay?”

  Tobias kissed my cheek, and I closed my eyes to savor these final seconds with him.

  When I locked the door behind him my body ached with the loss of his presence. Last night had been truly heart-stopping and I promised myself I’d hold on to these feelings to get through the day.

  My gaze returned to the hallway and rested on the Jaeger file.

  * * *

  Navigating the many cubicles already filled with arriving employees, I maintained my forward gaze, not wanting to catch sight of any faces that might confirm rumors of St. Joan’s reemergence had reached Huntly Pierre.

  In a weak attempt to try and cheer myself up, I’d dressed in my favorite Ann Taylor little black dress, and these stilettos were now back on my stockinged feet, having come off when I’d made my usual ascent up the stairs. I’d thrown on this red silk scarf to add a touch of color and dabbed it with Elizabeth Arden’s Green Tea perfume.

  Making a beeline for my office, I hurried on in and shut the door behind me. I’d made it.

  Though the worst still lay ahead, I was a step closer to getting this day behind me.

  A small box rested on my desk and it was wrapped in a gorgeous golden bow. I threw my handbag onto the corner chair and almost pounced on the box.

  Like Tobias had pounced on me last night.

  Thoughts of him made my chest flutter...

  I loved presents, especially having rarely gotten them and rarer still seeing the box covered in elegant paper with a pretty bow. After tearing it open, I set it on the desk and lifted the lid—

  Upon a bed of black velvet rested a sleek silver screened phone.

  Tobias.

  He’d promised to get me a new one. I hugged it to my chest and drew strength from this rush of excitement that he was still in my life. With a flick of a button the screen lit up and I laughed when I saw the wallpaper set to a geisha girl.

  A text appeared. Have a lovely day. Everything will be fine—Tobias.

  I texted back, You shouldn’t have, but I love it. Thank you!

  Giddy with the idea of seeing him again, I grazed my lower lip with my teeth, anticipating if that meant another night of lovemaking with Tobias Wilder.

  That Charles Dickens’s quote from A Tale of Two Cities burned up my brain: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...”

  Tobias: How are you doing?

  I’m okay.

  Tobias: Chat later?

  I texted back: I would love that!

  Tobias: Looking forward to it. Call me if you need anything!

  Examining further, the phone was fully loaded with songs, but more thrilling still was seeing Tobias’s phone number.

  He was quite possibly one of the most thoughtful men I’d ever met. And he’d bought me a phone. A nice new shiny high-tech gadget that connected me right to him.

  My gaze drifted over to Canary Wharf, and I wondered which one of those towering office buildings belonged to him.

  That Blake on the wall drew my attention.

  I let out a sigh of admiration for a piece of art that seemed to change before my eyes, those vivid greens morphing into brilliant blues depending on the way it caught the light. Liza’s genius was an understated creation.

  Settling into the morning, I grabbed a tea from the staff coffee room and returned to my office, needing one final read-through of the Jaeger file. Keeping my door closed for now may have been construed as a little standoffish but I needed to concentrate.

  Working methodically from form to form, I couldn’t find a flaw in the Jaeger case.

  Taking one last look at the photo, I double-checked the date of the Kodak paper manufacturer just to be safe.

  My heart went out to Bill and Patricia Jaeger and their ten-year-old twins. The photo of them had been taken by the press the day after the theft. Printed off and placed in their file to add a personal touch. They looked devastated, and I wondered what kind of an impression this would make on their children long-term.

  Using my magnifier, I peered down at Bill Jaeger’s grandfather. He was an elegant-looking man and you could see where Bill had inherited that strong nose, those kind German eyes and that dashing socialite demeanor that tangled with arrogance.

  Looking closer at Hulbert Jaeger’s clothes, there was nothing unusual about his suit, which was a clear reflection of the 1920s and inching downward his shoes checked out, nothing unusual there. Raising the lens, I studied his cuff links and then his wristwatch, slightly covered by a cuff.

  Using the magnifier to again study the photo, I saw Hulbert Jaeger was wearing a Seiko Astron, the world’s first quartz watch. A quick computer check showed that the company had first started selling watches in 1917. Visiting their website I admired Seiko’s sleek designs and read up a little on them.

  I sat back, stunned.

  Needing a few more minutes to recheck the photo and gather my thoughts.

  Quickly, I shot off an email to Abby, asking if we could all meet in the staff room. I wanted to share my new findings ASAP.

  Her email replied briskly. Ten minutes?

  I replied, Perfect.

  A knock at the door startled me.

  Instinctively, I flicked my screensaver up. “Come in.”

  Logan was already in the room. She shut the door behind her and rested her back against it.

  I pushed myself to my feet.

  “No need.” She gestured.

  But I was already on my feet and rounding my desk. “Can you thank Mr. Wilder for the phone?”

  Logan’s eyes widened as she looked at it and her frown deepened when she found the discarded box and its bow.

  She was wearing a tight black Chanel suit and she looked stunning, wearing her usual sophisticated style with pure perfection, her makeup flawless, with not a hair out of place on her perfectly coiffed platinum chignon.

  She came in farther. “Tobias filled me in on the incident at Christie’s.”

  “Yes, we’re waiting to see if it’s authentic.” I swallowed my fear but it wouldn’t budge. I reached over for my leftover tea. “It’s a little unsettling.” It tasted cold. “Can I get you one?”

  “Listen, Zara, we have a problem.”

  “Oh?”

  “I understand that Mr. Wilder was seen with you at Christie’s yesterday?”

  “Yes, he was kind enough to—”

  “Have you ever read or heard of any scandals or unpleasantries in Mr. Wilder’s life?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  She gave a knowing nod. “Thanks to me. He hired me to protect him in all legal matters. More specifically, to clean up his mess. Zara, you are an impending mess. You and I both know your family scandal is about to rear its ugly head and quite frankly, the shit’s gonna hit the fan.”

  I reached up to my scarf and ran my fingers over the silk to loosen it, my heartbeat taking off at a rapid rate.

  “You’ll probably lose your job,” continued Logan. “Huntly Pierre will attempt to save face before your reputation ruins theirs.”

  “What are you saying?” But I knew.

  “Cut off all contact with my client. There will be no further interaction with Mr. Wilder, and should
you reach out I’ll slam you with a restraining order.”

  “I explained everything to Tobias.”

  “You can’t use your wily ways on me, Ms. Leighton.”

  I blinked back the sting of tears. “I need to speak with him.”

  “Did you hear anything I just said?”

  “You can’t do this.”

  “I’m the one with integrity here, Zara. You were merely hired as our consultant. Your services are no longer required.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Seriously?”

  I pushed her for an answer with a nod.

  “Your father was embroiled in God knows what. Like most lies, it won’t stay hidden for long. Perhaps you were privy to his criminal activity?”

  “My dad was a good man.”

  “The evidence proving otherwise is at Christie’s.”

  “How did you hear about it?”

  “From Tobias, of course. We’ve both reassessed the situation and we’re moving forward with closure with all contact with you.”

  “He just texted me and everything seemed fine.”

  “Don’t make this any harder on yourself.”

  “We don’t know if the painting is real yet.”

  “Seriously? You’re not only an expert at spotting fakes, this one actually hung in your own home.”

  “What did Tobias tell you?”

  She seemed to enjoy not responding to that. “Don’t take advantage of his kindness.”

  It made me wonder if all those photos of Tobias escaping on his motorbike were of him trying to get away from her.

  “I’m calling him right now—” I reached for my phone.

  She got to it first and snatched it up. “I’m here on Mr. Wilder’s behalf. I represent his wishes. Let’s put this torrid situation to bed. Don’t you want to be left with some dignity at least?”

  “Please leave.”

  “I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding.” She stepped back with my phone. “You won’t need this.”

  “It was a gift!” I reached for it but the phone was already in her handbag.

  “But of course you’ve fallen hard for the charismatic billionaire. You want to believe something more is possible. Woman to woman, stop embarrassing yourself.”

  “I object to that.”