“Gretchen, can we talk about this?” he called out as she reached the first floor and opened the front door.
Sheriff Matthews stood on the other side, bringing her to a halt. “Gretchen, I need to speak with you.”
Colm made his way down the stairs to hear what news the lawman brought. Was Gretchen in more danger? He came up beside her and waited to hear what the sheriff had to say.
The man looked from Gretchen to him and said, “Sorry, Colm, but I need to speak with her alone.”
When Lydia had said this the day before, Gretchen had requested he stay.
She didn’t this time.
Colm left her side and passed through the door. He nodded at Sheriff Matthews as he went by. “That’s all right. That’s the way she likes things. Alone.”
TWELVE
“We need your secrecy on a matter that has landed on the shores of Stepping Stones and involves someone on the crew…and now involves all of us,” Sheriff Matthews stated when he was sure the house stood empty, minus the two of them.
“More secrets?” Gretchen sighed. “I’m so tired of them.”
“I understand your hesitation, and typically I would never ask, but I don’t believe Len is the one responsible for hurting you, which means you’re still in danger.”
Gretchen walked to the stairs and took the first step for a seat. Owen joined her. “I had thought he was admitting to hurting me. He’d apologized for the attic, and I believed the worst of him.” Tears filled her eyes, but she stopped them before they spilled out. “But the turpentine wasn’t what he was talking about. He was apologizing because he hid his most valuable possession in my attic. His painting.” She looked at the ceiling.
Owen’s eyes widened. “The painting’s here? Right now?”
She nodded. “Nobody stole it. I’m thinking Len got scared that someone would come for it, and he must have thought it would be safe with me and hid it in a hiding place that I didn’t even know existed.” She looked at Owen and sighed. “And it’s all my fault. He was attacked by someone who wanted it because I alerted the world to its existence. I might as well have handwritten the invite.”
“How do you figure?”
“Remember when Troy came to the island to interview me? After I showed him around the island and this house, I took him back to the restaurant and we sat in front of the fireplace. The last screen shot was of the painting hanging above us. So you see, I did this. Anyone could have seen that clip and come looking for it. Even try to kill for it.”
“There’s more to the story, Gretchen. More that I just recently found out myself.”
“What is it?”
“This is where I need your secrecy. I shouldn’t be even telling you. I’m sure I’m breaking a federal law, but we decided you could aid us in narrowing down the suspects who are after this painting.”
“Aid you? And what do you mean by federal?”
“Can you promise you’ll keep it quiet? It could mean putting lives at risk if you let anything slip.”
“I understand.”
“Your aid could put a stop to the crimes right here and for good.”
“Crimes? As in plural? You mean this isn’t the first?”
He shook his head. “And won’t be the last unless they are caught.”
Someone was out there victimizing innocent people—including herself—for artwork? How could she say no? “What is it you need me to do?”
“Can I take this as your promise?”
Gretchen straightened up with an emphatic nod. “I will help catch whoever is trying to hurt people for their own gain. Where do we begin?”
“Hold up just a second.” Owen grabbed the radio at his shoulder and pushed the button to speak. “Come on in. It’s a go.”
“Is that Wesley?”
The next second Ethan appeared above her, coming through the servants’ quarters. He stopped at the top of the stairs and looked down at them.
Gretchen jumped to her feet. “Ethan, what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be in the house. How much did you hear?”
“Enough.” He took the first step down, his gait slow and deliberate. He came another few stairs and Gretchen eased back, nearly falling into the hole that Colm had yet to finish. “Enough to know you can be trusted,” Ethan said as he reached the landing. Ethan put his hand out. “I’m Special Agent Ethan Hunt, undercover for the FBI. I’m sure you figured out by now that I’m not a painter.” He flashed a genuine smile, but Gretchen couldn’t make herself respond.
“Gretchen,” Owen said, “this is the secret we need you to keep. If word gets out the production crew is being watched by the FBI, there could be a backlash we have yet to see the likes of.”
“Worse than someone trying to kill me?”
“Ethan doesn’t think anyone’s been trying to kill you.”
“Seriously?” Gretchen couldn’t believe Owen’s words.
Ethan explained, “If they wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I believe they just wanted you off the property so they could look around for the painting. I’m pretty sure whoever doused the place with turpentine to cause your asthma attack was also the one who rescued you and got you to the clinic.”
“Really?” Gretchen was still incredulous.
“My point being, if it should slip that the FBI is onto someone in this crew for art theft, those setups will be carried through to the fullest extent.”
Air rushed from Gretchen’s lungs. “Meaning no more accidents, only death.”
The two men didn’t have to answer.
“I can’t believe this,” she mumbled before accepting Ethan’s words. “So, how long has this been going on?”
“Right about the time Colm came on.”
The air in her lungs rushed out. “You think Colm is behind this? But he was at the police station when I got locked in the attic. He couldn’t have done it or rescued me.”
“He could have an accomplice. Someone he trusts with his life.”
“Sly.”
Both men nodded, and Gretchen’s heart rate sped up to the point she felt it pulsing through her head. It couldn’t be Colm. He was a good man. She’d finally seen it. His past didn’t define him anymore. He’d said he was a new creation in Christ. That Sly had introduced him to God and told him there was always another way.
“Another way,” she mumbled.
“Another way for what?” Ethan asked.
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” she replied, but deep down she had to wonder if fencing art was Colm’s other way of fighting back against a world that had cut him down so many times.
“He always wanted me to go to the clinic. Right from the first accident. The first day I met him, he said I shouldn’t even be on the scene. It wasn’t customary for the home owner to stay.”
“I’m sure it made things easier in the past for them.”
“Past? How many thefts have there been?”
“Thanks to you, it will be stopping at five.”
“Five.” A horrid thought popped into her head. “What about Len? Colm could never have beaten him up. I know this.”
“How do you know it? Gretchen, Colm McCrae was a street fighter. His track record proves he could have done it…and has.”
“But he says God has changed him. Come on, Owen, you know the transformation God can accomplish in our lives when we follow Him. I have to believe He did it for Colm, too.”
“Why do you have to believe that?”
Because I kissed him, and I wanted to do it again. The words blared through her head. When she had leaned into him and forgot all her vows so easily, her actions scared her. To feel such strong emotions for another man, after she pledged never to feel that way again, proved she was weak.
She thought of how she had melted at his beautiful Irish words. Billy had never been so graceful with his words. Colm McCrae was the smoothest talker out there.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be helping you,” Gretchen said. “I may not be strong enough for this task.�
�
“We think you are, or we wouldn’t have asked,” Ethan assured her. “Don’t worry about messing things up. I’m going to return as painter, and you just continue as usual. I’ll follow my suspicions where they lead, which reminds me, I’m sorry I left you the night you were locked in the attic. I caught Troy snooping around after hours and followed him until he went back to his trailer.”
“Troy!” Gretchen exclaimed. “He’s mean and selfish and only cares about money. Are you considering him?”
“Of course, we’re considering all the crew members who have been at the reported theft locations. But as I said, the art started to disappear from people’s homes when Colm came on the program. He has a mother he’s trying to get over to the States.”
“His savings fund,” Gretchen remembered aloud. “He said he would use some of it to fix my house, so the crew could stay on and finish. He literally just told me about it upstairs when—”
“When what?” Ethan asked.
“When we found the painting together. Colm knows where it is. In fact, he said it was a van Gogh.”
“Wow. They’re going after a van Gogh this time, are they? And he knew what he was looking at?”
Gretchen nodded. The dread made her take her seat again on the bottom step.
Colm was guilty? No, she couldn’t believe it.
Sheriff Matthews cleared his throat as he peered out the window. “Colm’s coming. What should we do about the painting? Should we move it?”
“No,” Ethan said. “Right now he’s the only one besides Gretchen and Len who knows where it is. Len’s at the hospital on the mainland. So if it goes missing, we know who took it.”
Nausea rolled in Gretchen’s stomach. She felt as if she was now the hated puppet master pulling the strings. Never would she have wanted to play this part.
Colm’s booted footsteps hit the porch. Each beat jerked her shoulders.
“Get ready, Gretchen. It’s showtime.”
Sheriff Matthews opened the door before Colm could knock. “Colm, I’m glad you’re here. I brought back Ethan. We’ve checked him out and he’s clean.”
“Well, you can take him right back out with you. I don’t want him anywhere near this site.”
Ethan stepped up, his hands out to plead. “I’m sorry I exaggerated on my résumé, but please, I need this job. You don’t understand. I have family struggling with health and finances. I did what I had to for them.”
Colm clenched his jaw, and just as he began to shake his head, Gretchen stood up and spoke, even though each word caused her physical pain: “Colm, you said you would do whatever you could to get my house finished in time for the grand opening. The fact is, Ethan is the only painter you have on the crew. We need him. I need him. Please, let him stay.”
Colm’s face blanched. He took his eyes off her and looked at Ethan for a long moment. Back and forth his gaze passed between them until finally he nodded once. No happiness shined in his eyes. In fact, Gretchen thought his usual light dulled before her. He exited without a word, and for the first time in her life she knew what it felt like to control another human being.
“I’m going to be sick.”
THIRTEEN
“Cut!” Troy jumped from his director’s chair, red in the face. “McCrae! I won’t be able to use any of this footage. It’s boring! For nearly two weeks you’ve done nothing but work on this house, barely speaking to the camera. You only play a carpenter on TV. The viewers want to see your face, not your back. Put that cloth down and get back in front of the camera!”
Colm stood from giving the staircase railing a last swipe of polish. He could practically see his reflection in its shine. He stuffed the rag in his back jeans pocket and picked up his bucket of tools. He gave a quick look through the entry to the living room. The room stood empty of anyone so he looked above to Gretchen’s closed bedroom door. He wanted to see her face when she saw the banister complete and finished for the first time. He wished his da could see it, as well. He wished his da could see everything his hands had touched these past two weeks.
I found who I am, Da, and Gretchen was right. I’m a carpenter just like you.
The house was nearing completion except for the servants’ quarters. Those Gretchen could work on slowly as income from the guests replenished her coffers, even though Colm had a deep desire to stay on and continue what he’d started. The thought of staying on long after that entered his mind.
It flitted out just as fast.
Gretchen would never have it. She would never have him. These past two weeks had proven that.
He and his crew had worked day and night to finish her home. She herself had done the same, helping Ethan with painting as much as she could. Colm had worried about her asthma around the fumes, but she took the necessary precautions and showed no signs of labored breathing. If she had wheezed even once, he would have stepped in.
And done what? The woman was so independent. To even suggest she needed help offended her. And that was the reason any chance he had of sticking around after the restoration was bleak.
“Have you seen Gretchen?” he asked Troy as though he’d just noticed the man. “How about you, Nate?”
Nate brought his camera down from his shoulder. “She and Ethan are finishing up the side porch. Do you want me to go grab her?”
“Nay, I’ll head out there and see how they’re faring. I’m pretty much done in here. I’d say we do our walkthrough tonight. Then let’s pack up and be on our way.”
“You got it,” Nate said.
“I say when we pack up,” Troy interrupted. “I have some unfinished business here, and you have some footage to retake. You’re not going anywhere until you get it right.”
“I’ve given you all I got. The Sunday ferry arrives tomorrow, and I plan to be on it.”
“Then you better tell the captain to sail east for Dublin. Maybe your alley is still available.”
Colm heard Troy’s threats, but now he knew they were empty. For two years the man threw them out like punches. One hit after another reminded Colm of his worthless past, the message that Colm would be nothing without the show.
The usual fear didn’t strike. Funny, that. “Not a problem, Troy. Consider this my last show. I’m actually looking forward to seeing my ma. It’s been a long time.” And if she sent him away again, he would deal with it differently this time. He wouldn’t yell and punch the wall in frustration. No, this time he would show her the new man he’d become. He would share the love of God that was in him until she finally believed it for herself. Whatever it took, he wouldn’t give up this time.
Colm felt the first smile he’d had on his face in two weeks.
“There! That’s the look I pay you for. That’s what I want to see on film. What my viewers tune in for. I’m glad to see it’s still there. Now let’s get moving before daylight disappears.”
“Nay. I didn’t finish this house for the show or for you,” Colm said as he headed to the kitchen toward the side porch where Gretchen was. He wanted to share his plans with her. As much as she’d pushed him away since they kissed, he couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else. A vision of her beside him, lending him some of her inner strength when he went to his mother again, flashed in his mind. He pushed it aside as nothing but a fanciful whimsy. Gretchen had her own new life to live now.
One on her own.
Colm walked briskly through the updated kitchen with its shiny new stainless-steel appliances waiting for Gretchen’s culinary expertise. He pushed open the screened door and stepped out onto the side porch and paused. The view of the ocean far and wide brought an immediate sense of peace. It washed over him as the sunset’s fiery sky took his breath away. Strokes of purples and reds brushed across the horizon.
Lord, I am so humbled by the gifts You give me and the plans You have for me. May I always stand in awe of them. Your hand in my life is just as artful and intentional as this sky in front of me.
Colm closed his eyes for a momen
t and saw another of God’s works of art. Hair like spun gold, eyes blue like that far and wide ocean. And as distant from him as Ireland herself.
Lord, take care of her. Do whatever it takes to show her she’s not meant to face life alone.
Colm thought of earlier in the week when he’d found Gretchen in the dining room attempting to hang a curtain. Her five feet wouldn’t allow her to reach a foot from the window top. He’d hurried in and brought the curtain to its place with ease. It was a simple maneuver meant to help her, but when she’d turned to face him, he’d seen her no-vacancy sign in place.
Her desire to be a steadfast island would eventually isolate her beyond reach, leaving her vacant permanently. But if he would never give up on his ma, how could he give up on Gretchen?
He couldn’t and wouldn’t. End of story.
Colm trekked across the porch and stepped down to the grass. He’d expected to see her out here painting, but the rear yard was empty. He walked a little farther toward the barn. Voices from inside stopped him. The doors were shut, but a side window stood open. Colm recognized Ethan saying, “We’re almost done, Gretchen.”
Colm smiled at finding her and headed for the doors.
“This could be our last night,” Ethan said. “I can’t leave here with so much unresolved.”
Colm halted with his hand on the latch. He didn’t like earwigging, but confusion at the direction of this conversation halted him.
“What are you saying?” Gretchen’s voice spilled from the window. She sounded upset as she asked the same question Colm wondered.
“I need you,” Ethan responded.
Colm heard silence, but Ethan’s words blared in his head.
He retracted his hand from the handle but halted when he saw his clenched fist.
Just when I thought my old self was gone.
Colm stepped back, defeated. A twig beneath his foot snapped like a firecracker. He didn’t wait to see if they heard but legged it for his trailer.
*
“What do you need from me?” Gretchen asked after she peered out the window. She’d heard something snap and thought someone was approaching the barn, but the yard was clear all the way to the house.
Love Inspired Suspense June 2015 #1 Page 52