Brett bit into one of the crescent-shaped cookies. “They’re good.”
Nick gave a satisfied smile. “For you too, Hannah. They will give you a little boost of energy.”
She was about to tell Nick that she didn't need one, but she changed her mind. If it could get her through the next hour, she would be incredibly grateful.
“Thank you.” As soon as she bit into the cookie, she sighed.
“I will leave a plate of kourabiedes on the counter. Please help yourself.”
Hannah turned back to the wall of paintings she’d seen when she first walked into the kitchen. “You’ve added more pictures to your memory wall.”
Nick handed Hannah a cup of coffee. “I have,” he said proudly. “My new granddaughter has been busy making her pappouli lots of art. I am very blessed.”
Mia, Nick’s granddaughter, was marrying Stan Lewis in a few months. Stan’s eleven-year-old daughter, Annabelle, had found a special place in Nick’s heart.
“Annabelle is coming to Claire’s next art workshop.”
Nick looked curiously at her. “You will not be there?”
Hannah glanced at Brett. “Not this time,” she said softly.
Brett left his mug of coffee on the counter. “Would you mind if we talked about the painting? I promised Pat I’d take him a copy of the report.”
“Of course,” Nick said as he waved them through another door. “It is getting late and Pat will be tired. Let us go to my office. I have everything you will need in there.”
Hannah cradled the cup of coffee in her hands. The heat seeped into her cold fingers and gave her something to focus on instead of Brett.
Nick handed each of them a folder. “Liliana has provided you with an in-depth report that verifies the authenticity of the painting. She believes Albert Bierstadt painted the canvas after an 1859 expedition to the Rocky Mountains. Another canvas called, The Rocky Mountains, Lander’s Peak, was completed in 1863 and is based on sketches Bierstadt made from the 1859 expedition. Pat’s painting shares similar geographical features to that canvas.”
“Did Liliana have any idea about how Pat’s grandparents became the owners of the painting?”
“That she did not know. When Pat and Ida are able to assist her, she would be happy to investigate any family or business connections to the Bierstadt family. Before Ida became sick, Pat mentioned some documents given to him from his grandmother’s estate. These may also provide more clues. We will have to wait until the time is right to find them.”
Brett opened the report and read Liliana’s summary of her findings. “She thinks the painting is worth a million dollars?”
Nick nodded. “It could be more if the provenance of the painting can be established. A painting created after the same expedition, of about the same size and condition, sold for more than $1.4 million dollars at a recent auction. Albert Bierstadt may have been all but forgotten at the time of his death but, since the 1960s, his work has become highly sought after.”
“Where is the painting now?” Hannah asked.
“It is still in New York City. Before it was transported, Pat requested that it stay with Liliana until she completed her report. Have you spoken to Pat today?”
“I saw him at the hospital,” Brett said. “He was shocked and excited to know the painting was a Bierstadt. Ida’s still in the Intensive Care Unit. I don’t know what Pat will want to do with the painting.”
“There is no rush,” Nick assured him. “Liliana is storing the painting in a secure, temperature-controlled environment. It will be safe with her.”
Hannah gave Nick a hug. “Thank you for going to all this trouble for Pat.”
“It was not just Pat I did this for. I wanted to see the smile on your face when you discovered the painting was a Bierstadt. But there is no smile, Hannah. What is wrong?”
She bit her bottom lip and gripped the report even tighter. “I’m tired, Nick. It’s been a stressful few weeks.”
“Mia said you have been working on a celebrity wedding?”
“I don’t know about celebrity, but it will be big.” She glanced at Brett. “We should probably go now. Pat will want to see the report.”
Nick gave her another hug. “You come and see me, Hannah. We have much to discuss.”
Tears filled her eyes. “I will. I’ll give you a call next week.”
“Make sure you do.” Nick shook Brett’s hand. “It was good seeing you again. Please pass on my best wishes to Pat and Ida. It must be a difficult time for everyone.”
Brett nodded. “I will. Thank you for the report and for seeing us this late.”
“I would do the same for any of my friends.” Nick walked them to the front door. With a worried frown, he turned to Hannah. “I will be waiting for your call.”
“I won’t forget.” Hannah waved goodbye and tightened the belt on her jacket. Now all she had to do was make it home before she burst into tears.
***
Brett turned into Hannah’s street. The journey to her home had been just as silent as going to Nick’s gallery. He didn’t know what to say, how to salvage anything from a night he’d sooner forget.
“Thanks for coming to the gallery with me,” Hannah said quietly. “And I’m sorry…about everything else.”
His hands gripped the steering wheel. “You’ve made your choice. I hope everything works out for you.”
“I won’t know unless I try.”
He took a deep breath. “I know painting is important to you. I’m just disappointed that you didn’t see a future for us. We could have had something special.”
He looked across the cab.
Hannah was staring out the side window. Even in profile, she was the most beautiful women he’d ever met.
“If you decide that living in a big city isn’t for you, you could always come back to Bozeman.”
She looked down at her hands. “I’ll miss you, Brett. More than you probably realize.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” He blinked through the tears in his eyes. With a glance in his rearview mirror, he pulled into Hannah’s driveway. He stared through his windshield at the dark house in front of them. “Was Claire coming straight home?”
Hannah pulled her phone out of her pocket. “That was the plan. I tried calling her before we left the hotel, but she wasn’t answering. I’ll call her again.”
Brett unbuckled his seatbelt and waited for Hannah.
“There’s still no answer.”
“Wait here while I check the house.” He took his gun out of the glove compartment and opened the door. “Lock the doors. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Hannah scrambled out of the truck. “I’m coming, too.”
“You’re safer here.”
“If Claire’s hurt, she’ll need two of us to help her,” she whispered. Without waiting for him, she started walking toward her front door.
“For Pete’s sake,” he hissed. He lengthened his stride to catch up with her. “Wait.” He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her against the garage wall. “You don’t just walk into a dark house. I’ll go first.”
Hannah opened her mouth to argue.
He held his gun in the air and her mouth clamped shut. At least the cold hadn’t frozen her common sense. He moved around her, slowly making his way along the front porch.
Hannah’s hand tightened on the back of his jacket. She matched each step he took, stride for stride.
“Down,” he whispered.
Hannah dropped to her knees beside him.
He peered in the living room window, trying to see past the shadows. “Are you ready to go inside?”
“Yes,” Hannah whispered.
He crawled to the front door, crouching beside the handle.
“Wait!”
Brett looked over his shoulder.
Hannah handed him a key. “You’ll need this.”
“Thanks.” He inserted the key. With one click, the door swung open. He lifted his gun and walked inside, k
eeping his back to the wall.
As they made their way through the house, Hannah stayed behind him, barely making a sound. The last room they checked was the laundry. When that was empty, he walked into each room, turning on the lights. An intruder would be less likely to enter the house if they thought more than one person was at home.
“I’ll try Claire again,” Hannah said as she locked the front door.
While she called her sister, Brett made sure the windows and back door were secure. By the time he returned to the hallway, Hannah was pacing backward and forward.
“Where do you think she’s gone?” Hannah asked. “It’s not like Claire to go somewhere else, especially after what’s been happening.”
“Which way would she have driven home?”
“She would have gone past Nick’s gallery and taken the same roads we did. It should have only taken her fifteen minutes to get home.”
Brett tried to ignore all the things that could have happened to Claire since he’d last seen her. “I’ll call Fletcher Security and ask them to send someone here while I retrace Claire’s route. If anyone tries to break into the house, call the police.”
“Why can’t I come with you? It won’t be easy checking the streets while you’re driving.”
“Someone needs to stay here in case Claire comes home.”
Hannah bit her bottom lip. “Okay.”
Brett stopped himself from stepping forward and giving her a hug. He couldn’t go there, not yet. “Remember, keep the doors locked.”
“I will.” Hannah followed him to the front door. “Let me know if you find her.”
He nodded and walked quickly to his truck. With his gun safely stored away, he backed down the driveway and called Fletcher Security. Claire couldn’t have disappeared. She had to be somewhere in Bozeman. The only question was where.
***
Hannah stood beside the living room window, looking onto the quiet street. Since Brett had left half an hour ago, only two cars had driven by. None of them had slowed to investigate her home or shown any interest in what was happening behind her front gates.
She glanced at her cell phone and called Claire’s phone again. Still no answer. She imagined her sister lying in a cold, dark ditch somewhere. Or worse, sitting in a van with her arms and legs bound and a mouth gag to stop her from screaming.
Hannah crossed her arms in front of her chest. She needed to stop thinking the worst. Claire could have gone to visit a friend or decided to go home a different way. She could have a flat tire or her truck might have broken down. She’d been complaining about the battery on her cell phone. It could have lost its charge and be useless for calling anyone for help.
Standing here was making her crazy. She closed the curtains, turned on the lights, and walked through to the kitchen. If she couldn’t do anything except wait, she’d make herself a cup of coffee. A strong, black cup of coffee. And if there were some of Claire’s chocolate brownies in the pantry, she’d have one of those, too.
She gnawed on her bottom lip while the coffee pot heated. She looked at her watch, then checked her cell phone to make sure Claire hadn’t sent her a text. Nothing.
If she hadn’t heard from Brett in the next five minutes, she’d call him. Then she’d call Claire’s friends. Someone must know where her sister had gone.
With a plan in place, she went back to the living room, flicked off the lights, and opened the curtains. Sitting in the dark, staring at the street, was better than worrying about Claire from the kitchen.
Hannah nibbled on the chocolate brownie, sipped her coffee and prayed that her sister was okay.
She nearly dropped her cup when a truck turned into the driveway. With her nose pressed to the glass, she gave a sigh of relief when she recognized the driver. Claire was home.
She threw open the front door and rushed across to the garage. “Where have you been?”
Claire reached inside the truck. “I’m sorry I’m late. On the way home I remembered that we needed more milk. While I was at Safeway, I bumped into Holly. We started talking about her wedding and, before I knew it, half the night had disappeared. Is everything all right?”
“No, it’s not all right. Why didn’t you call me?”
“My stupid cell phone wouldn’t work. I’m taking it back to the store on Monday. The battery should have lasted a whole lot longer than it has.” Claire looked at their home. “Why did you turn off the living room lights?”
“I didn’t want anyone to know I was sitting in the living room waiting for you. I thought you were stranded on the side of the road or that someone had kidnapped you.”
“Why would you think that?”
Hannah took the carton of milk out of her sister’s hands. “Because someone attacked Dave and left our photos beside him. Just because the police arrested the people they think were involved, it doesn’t mean there aren’t other people waiting to make their point.”
Claire took another grocery bag off the passenger seat. “Your imagination has been working overtime again.”
“It wasn’t only me. Brett is looking for you.”
“You’re joking?”
“I wish I was. I’ll take the milk inside, then give him a call.” Hannah put the milk in the refrigerator and pulled out her phone. Claire followed her, helping herself to a chocolate brownie while Hannah called Brett.
When he didn’t answer, she frowned. “That’s strange. He always answers his phone.”
“Maybe he’s driving?” Claire suggested.
Hannah didn’t think he’d ignore his phone, regardless of what he was doing. “I told him I’d call him if you came home.”
“He’s probably doing something else. Try again in another couple of minutes.”
Hannah sat on a stool while Claire made herself a cup of coffee. “I told Brett I’m going to Vancouver.”
Claire smiled. “So you’re definitely going?”
“As long as everything looks okay on my visit. Brett was upset.”
“He cares about you.”
Hannah rested her elbows on the counter. “He loves me.”
Claire froze. “He told you that?”
A noise halfway between a sob and a hysterical laugh escaped Hannah’s throat. “Just when I’m offered an incredible opportunity, I fall in love with the man of my dreams. It’s the worst timing in the world.”
“Wait a minute. You never told me you loved him.”
“I didn’t know I loved him until tonight. He danced with me in the grand ballroom. And it wasn’t just any waltz. It was the Viennese Waltz.”
“You love him because he can dance?”
“No, well, maybe, but that’s not the only reason I love him. He’s funny and kind and likes the same things I do.” Tears fell down her face. “I can’t imagine my life without him.”
Claire moved around the counter. “So why are you leaving?”
“Because I might never get the chance to do the residency again. It could change my life forever.”
“But is it the life you want?”
Hannah closed her eyes and imagined the life she’d always wanted. None of her dreams involved living thousands of miles from her sister and leaving behind the man she loved. “Maybe not, but it’s a start.”
Claire squeezed her hand. “It’s a good start, but make sure it’s taking you where you want to go.”
“I thought you wanted me to move to Vancouver?”
“I wanted you to move because it’s what you wanted. You spent hours filling in the application form and researching other residencies.”
Hannah sighed. “That was before I met Brett.”
“Are you sure you want to leave Bozeman?”
“I’m not sure about anything, anymore. I just wish—”
Someone knocked on their front door.
Hannah jumped off the kitchen stool. “That’s probably Brett.” Before opening the door, she looked through the window to see who was there.
She frowned as she undi
d the locks and pulled open the door. “Hi, Jason. I forgot to call Fletcher Security to tell them that Claire has arrived home. We’ll be fine here on our own.”
“I didn’t know Claire was missing.”
“Brett was going to let you know that we couldn’t find Claire. He wanted someone to wait with me while he was retracing her drive home.”
A flicker of emotion crossed Jason’s face. “I think you should sit down.”
Hannah’s blood pressure nosedived. “What’s happened?”
“Is Claire still here?”
Claire walked down the hallway. “Hi, Jason. How can we help you?”
He looked inside the nearest doorway and pointed to the sofa. “Let’s sit down.”
Hannah sank into the nearest chair. “Tell me.”
Jason glanced at Claire, then at Hannah. “Brett was involved in an accident. The police think someone ran a red light at an intersection not far from here. They hit the driver’s side of Brett’s truck. He was taken to Bozeman Deaconess Hospital.”
Hannah’s fingers dug into the arm of her chair. “Is he all right?”
“I don’t know. Brett’s sister was in the hospital when the police called her. She tried calling you, but your phone was busy. She asked us to find you to let you know what had happened.”
“I have to go to the hospital.” Hannah leaped out of the chair. “I need to find my keys.”
“Put on your jacket,” Claire said quickly. “I’ll drive.”
“I could take you to the hospital,” Jason said.
“We’ll need a vehicle to get backward and forward,” Claire said as she ran to the kitchen.
Jason helped Hannah with her jacket.
Claire ran into the living room. “Are you ready?”
“You can follow me,” Jason said. “I want to make sure you get to the hospital in one piece.”
Hannah locked the front door. She didn’t care how they got to the hospital. All she cared about was Brett.
***
By the time Claire drove into the hospital’s main entrance, Hannah was a nervous wreck. She didn’t have Mary-Beth’s phone number, so couldn’t call her to see if Brett was all right.
The Gift (The Protectors Book 6) Page 20