by Tina Michele
Belle screamed for help and hoped someone would hear her. She cut across the grass toward the door and prayed someone would be there. As she reached the glass doors, she held out her arms for the handles, knowing they would be locked. When the door opened, she leapt forward. Solid arms wrapped around her and pulled her into the building. Belle buried her head into the tight embrace of her savior and panted.
Chapter Nine
Tara had watched the entire ordeal unfold before her eyes. Two men dressed in dark clothes trailed along behind Belle, and Tara’s heart raced. She stared at the monitor and called out for Belle to run. She radioed for Scott. “Get up here, now!”
Scott responded without hesitation. “On my way! What’s going on?”
“It’s Belle, hurry!” She watched the monitor as Belle turned the corner and disappeared. Tara’s eyes flashed over to another screen that showed Belle headed for the front doors. “Shit!”
Scott came running from around the corner and slid to a stop as Tara bolted past him toward the main entrance. “Where are you going?” he asked as she hit the emergency release on the steel gate. “What the—open the door. Now!” he hollered after her.
Tara flung open the doors just as Belle leapt for them. Tara pulled Belle into the building and watched the two men skid to a halt at the sidewalk. They paced and waved their arms before they ran back toward the garage.
Tara wrapped Belle in her arms and whispered. “It’s okay. Shh. You’re safe. It’s okay.” Belle sobbed into her shirt, and Tara could feel warm tears on her skin. “Shh. You’re okay.” Tara comforted her as Belle’s entire body shook with fear. Tara refused to loosen her arms as she led Belle inside toward the guard station where Scott stood wide-eyed. “Close the gate,” she said as she motioned to the overhead security grille.
He swiped his badge and entered his key code near the front door and a heavy steel grille dropped. “Who the hell were they?” he asked as he followed along behind them to the control desk.
Tara had no idea, and from the way Belle ran from them, she couldn’t imagine that she had either. Tara eased Belle down into the chair, but Belle’s grip around her shoulders remained tight. “Hey. Look at me. Belle?” Tara cooed.
Belle eased her arms down from around Tara and looked into her eyes. Tara’s heart squeezed in her chest to see the fear in Belle’s eyes. Tears and mascara stained her beautiful face. “Are you okay?” It took several seconds for Belle to focus on Tara’s face, but when she did the tears began again. “No. No. Don’t cry.” Tara reached up to wipe away the tears.
Belle shivered. Tara assumed it was a reaction from the touch as she felt it as well. But when Belle wrapped her arms around herself, Tara realized there was a more rational explanation; she was cold. She leaned forward, and Belle closed her eyes. As she reached around Belle for the jacket that hung from the back of the chair, she heard a sigh. It was the first sound Belle had made since she heard her screaming outside the door—a sound that made Tara’s stomach turn. She wrapped the jacket over Belle’s shoulders and pulled the front closed around her.
“Thank you,” Belle said before she gave Tara a gentle smile.
More beautiful words Tara had never heard. “You’re welcome” didn’t seem like an adequate response. Yet, before Tara could say a thing, an alarm sounded on the security console. Scott, Tara, and Belle all jumped at the alert and scanned the monitors. Two police officers stood at the front door, and the flashing lights of their vehicle strobed behind them.
The intercom system buzzed. The officers identified themselves and requested entry. When Tara had pressed the emergency release button during the ordeal, an automatic call was sent out to both Joe as head of security and local law enforcement. Scott looked over at Tara for direction. He was as white as a ghost, and it was clear to her that he had never experienced such an event. The intercom buzzed again, and Tara reached over and pressed the button on the console to respond. “Stay here with her,” she told Scott then Tara looked at Belle. “I’ll be right back.” Belle nodded.
Tara raised the security door. Per protocol, Tara relayed the officer’s badge numbers to Scott who verified the information with dispatch. She swiped her badge and key code to open the doors for them. Tara described the incident as she led them back toward the desk and Belle.
Scott was on the phone relaying the same information. “Yes, sir. The front door, sir.”
Tara cringed, knowing that she breached regulations in order to open the doors for Belle. But she would do it again in an instant. The officers asked Belle a series of questions, many of which she couldn’t answer. As Tara suspected, Belle neither knew nor recognized the men who had tried to attack her, nor did she know why she had been their intended target. The officers questioned both Scott and Tara, who couldn’t offer much more than what Belle had already told them.
As the officers finished gathering their statements, Joe arrived. He looked furious until he spotted Belle, and his expression morphed into concern. “Belle, sweetheart, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Joe. My ankle is on fire, but I think it’s just sprained.”
Tara had no idea that Belle was injured. “Do you need something? Ice?” Tara didn’t want to leave Belle’s side, so she asked Scott to get the icepack from her lunch cooler.
The officers completed their notes, and Joe walked them out. Scott handed Tara the icepack, which was almost melted. “It’s not very cold anymore, but it should help a little.” She slid her hand down Belle’s calf and lifted her swollen ankle. “Damn,” she said as she placed the pack onto Belle’s lower leg. Belle stared at Tara but said nothing as she cared for her injury.
Joe returned from the front and stood over Tara and Belle. “Hicks. You violated the single most important regulation of your post. You compromised the security of the entire building and—”
Belle pulled her leg from Tara’s hands and stood. She flinched from the pain, and Tara jumped up to catch her. “Joe. She saved my life. I don’t know what would have happened to me if she hadn’t opened those doors when she did.” Tears filled Belle’s eyes as she spoke. “You can’t fire her.”
Joe looked at Belle with kind eyes. “Belle, I’m not going to fire her. She did the right thing. It was against every tenet of established protocol for this museum, but you’re right. She very well might have saved your life.”
“Thank you, Joe.” Belle smiled and sat back down.
“I still have to write you up for the breach. We can’t go breaking all the rules in one night.” Joe winked at Tara.
“I can live with that,” Tara said.
Joe held out his hand for Belle. “I’ll walk you to your car unless you want me to call Kyle to come get you.”
“I can drive but I…” Belle looked at Tara. “I think I’ll sit here a little while longer.”
Joe glanced between Belle and Tara. “Oh. Well, okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow. And I’ll need your reports on my desk in the morning,” he said to Scott and Tara.
“Yes, sir,” Scott said, but Tara was distracted by the deep gray eyes that stared into hers.
Joe laughed and walked away.
*
Belle sat in the chair behind the desk while Scott and Tara completed their incident reports. She took the opportunity to watch Tara unabashedly. She allowed her eyes to rake over Tara’s strong and confident features. Belle was surprised by how well the figureless black uniform hugged Tara’s body. She closed her eyes and recalled the protective embrace of that body as it had pressed against hers. She’d never felt so safe in anyone’s arms, especially not a stranger’s. When she opened her eyes, she was startled to see Tara looking back at her. Belle felt her face flush, and she chuckled.
“All done here,” Tara declared with a grin.
Belle was thankful that Tara couldn’t read her thoughts, at least she hoped that she couldn’t. “Great. Well, I should go.” Belle moved to stand, but Tara leapt forward.
“No. What? You can’t go back out ther
e alone. I thought maybe you could stay? I have another hour or so. You could come with me on my rounds and keep me company.”
Belle wanted to scream yes, but she didn’t. “Oh. I can’t.” Tara pouted and Belle laughed. “What I mean is, I don’t think I can walk that far on my ankle.” She gestured to her swollen foot.
“Oh! Not a problem. One sec.” Tara disappeared, and Belle looked over the top of the desk to see where she had gone. She laughed when Tara reappeared pushing a wheelchair.
“Oh my gosh. No. No way.” Belle covered her grin with her hand. “You are not pushing me through the building in that thing.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.” Tara laughed as she swerved the chair playfully around in front of her.
“Seriously?” Belle blushed.
“Yes.” Tara locked the wheels and held out her hand for Belle.
She contemplated for a moment before she took it and allowed Tara to help her into the chair. “I cannot believe I’m doing this.”
Tara grabbed her logbook and handed it to Belle. “This ain’t a free ride. You’ve gotta work for this. Plus, I need free hands to steer.” Tara logged the start of her patrol into the computer and then announced, “Here we go!” She pushed off, but the chair didn’t move. “Ugh!”
Belle shrieked with laughter as she jerked forward in the seat. “The brakes!”
“Um, I knew that.” Tara released the wheel locks. “Let’s try that again.” She pushed the chair forward smoothly. “Much better.”
“Yes.” Belle giggled again. Stop giggling, you idiot, she told herself. “Where to first?” Belle asked as she scanned the checklist in her lap.
“Start at the top.” Tara reached over Belle’s shoulder and pointed to the first line. Belle inhaled the faint scent of cologne that she hadn’t noticed during the incident. It was intoxicating and fit Tara well.
“Right. I knew that.” Belle read the first few lines out loud. “East corridor, gallery one—Impressionist Landscapes and east wing lavatories.” Each line had a place for a time, initials, and notes.
“Yes, ma’am. This train stops at all stations on the east line.”
“Wow.” Belle was excited to see everything from a new vantage point.
Tara swung the wheelchair back and forth across the hallway as she tested the sensors. “If you get seasick let me know.”
Belle anticipated that an entire hour of swerving through the building would make her nauseous, but she would worry about that if and when it happened. “I’m good.”
“Excellent.” Tara radioed back to Scott that the east corridor was secure before she leaned over Belle once more. “Check that first box and initial.”
Belle hoped that Tara would continue to point out each line over her shoulder so she could catch another hint of her cologne. “Impressionist!” Belle pointed to her right when she thought Tara was about to pass the gallery. Tara turned the chair, and Belle squealed in surprise. “Ahh! You drive like a maniac.”
“If it keeps making you laugh like that then I will keep doing it.” Tara pulled the chair into the center of the room and stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Belle looked around for Tara.
“Nothing. I have to check the motion and vibration sensors, and unless you want me to ram you into all of these displays, I think this is easier.”
Tara smiled at her own joke, and Belle’s stomach fluttered to life. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”
Belle watched as Tara circled the room activating the silent alarms. When Tara stood in front of Monet’s Sunrise, her heart skipped. “I love that painting.”
Tara stopped and looked at the piece. “It’s nice.”
Belle’s mouth dropped open. “Wha…Nice?”
Tara looked at Belle with wide eyes in complete surprise. “It’s beautiful?”
Belle wheeled herself over and stopped just short of Tara’s shins. “Nice? Beautiful, that’s it? Those two words are all that come to your mind when you look at this painting? Seriously?” Belle’s question was forceful and her voice was stern. “Look at it again.” Tara did as she was told and turned back toward the painting. “Try again. Say the first word that comes to your mind.”
“Calm.”
Belle sat up straighter in her chair. “Better. Why?”
Tara looked at Belle and was flustered by her intensity. “Well,” Her eyes went back to the artwork. “I guess because it’s how cool and calm the colors are. The way the sun reflects off the water. It’s like you can feel the silence and haze of the morning as they float along here.” Tara pointed out the small boats in the lower half of the painting.
“Very nice.” Belle relaxed into the back of the wheelchair. “This painting is the painting to which all other impressionist artists are compared. It’s Monet’s ability to capture nature in short, bold strokes of color to give us an impression of what he saw or what we might see. He painted to give us an emotion, a feeling, not just a scene. This painting began one of the most important eras in the history of art.” Belle watched as Tara continued to stare at the piece in front of her. “I’m sorry.”
Tara turned her head toward Belle. “What? For what? I’ve never heard or felt so much passion for anything in my entire life. I don’t know what to say. But please, don’t be sorry for that. Ever.”
“I just wanted to—” Belle began to say but was interrupted by Scott over the radio.
“Hey! Are you two all right? Cause either my screen is frozen or you guys are practicing for a new sculpture exhibit.”
They both laughed at the break in the tension. Tara looked at Belle kindly and smiled. “We are perfect. Impressionist Landscapes, secure.”
Belle wanted to smack herself for her outburst. There was no reason for her to be so abrupt and forceful with Tara. She often forgot that not everyone cared about things or art as much as she did. She was brought out of her sinking mood when Tara grabbed the handles of the chair and whistled like a train. “Next stop, east wing potties!” Belle closed her eyes and screamed as Tara sped her out into the hallway.
Chapter Ten
Tara enjoyed pushing Belle through the halls as she performed her duties. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had such innocent and childish fun. After the heaviness of her impromptu art lesson with Belle, Tara began to view every painting and sculpture with a newfound appreciation. She felt that Belle was embarrassed by her outburst, although she didn’t come out and say it. But Tara felt quite the opposite. It opened up a new way of thinking for her, and each piece became more than an inanimate object she was hired to protect.
They spent more time in each room than Tara did on her rounds, but it didn’t feel any longer. As they weaved in and out of the rooms and around displays and walls, Tara listened to every small fact and piece of trivia that Belle tossed out. There were no more tense moments of passionate intimidation, just interesting tidbits of data that Tara stored in her mind. Belle maintained the checklist as they secured each room on their route, occasionally flipping up the page to write on the notepad beneath it. Tara couldn’t make out anything that Belle scribbled on the page, and that made her all the more curious. Whenever she asked what Belle had written, she was given the same response: “Nothing much.” She didn’t believe her for a second, but Tara figured that if it was something Belle wanted her to see then she would show her.
So far in their patrol, Tara’s favorite room had been the de Lempicka exhibit—in the same place where Tara had seen Belle for the first time at the Grayson. From the first moment she’d seen the works of de Lempicka, she was intrigued by them. Each time she went through the gallery on her rounds she had spent a little extra time in there out of pure fascination with the art. This time the effect of the work on her cut deeper into her soul. Tara assumed it was because she was seeing everything with a new appreciation, but part of her felt that it was Belle’s mere presence that had heightened her sudden ardor.
They secured several more rooms after that one before they
headed back toward the main lobby. One room remained to be tested before their time together would be over. Tara’s mood turned sullen at the thought of the evening’s end. When they entered the Giles Grayson Gallery, Tara parked Belle’s chair near the entrance. As she made her way around the room, she noticed that Belle had moved in toward a bench in the center of the room. When Belle locked the wheels and pushed herself out of the seat, Tara ran over to her. “What are you doing?”
“I just want to sit here for a minute.” Belle hopped over and sat on the bench that faced a large painting of yellow flowers. “Van Gogh,” Belle stated.
“Didn’t he paint sunflowers?” Tara asked.
Belle laughed. “He did. But he also painted poppies.”
“Oh. Right, I knew that,” Tara joked. Tara knew that Belle knew better than to believe her and they both laughed.
“Sit,” Belle said as she patted the bench beside her.
“Yes, ma’am!” Tara did as she was told, not that Belle would have needed to ask her twice.
“Poppy Flowers or Vase with Viscaria. That’s what this piece is called. It was painted by Van Gogh in 1887. It belonged to Mr. Giles Grayson until he died and left his entire collection to the museum.”
Tara recalled the title as the one Eden and Olivia had told her about. She also contemplated the name Grayson for a second. “Giles? But then who is Emily?”