“I fully understand the sentimentality an artist has for his work, Mr. Shear, but I am willing to offer a substantial sum. You’re very talented. One day your work will be displayed in fine galleries all over the world. I want to be the first to promote that success.”
“That’s very flattering,” Tom replied. “But I’m afraid I have to decline your offer for this particular collection. Maybe in the future I’ll change my mind. But right now, my decision’s firm.”
“Well, if you should change your mind, and I hope you do, I want you to come to me first. I want that collection.”
“If I decide to sell, I promise you’ll be the first person I call.”
“Even though I’m going to hold you to that promise, it doesn’t mean I’m not interested in your other work,” Raymond said. “I meant what I said about promoting your talent. Why don’t we have dinner next week and discuss featuring some of your work in a few of my galleries? I think it would be beneficial for us both.”
Tom’s smile was subdued. “I appreciate your interest. And I accept your invitation. Thank you.”
“I’ll call you early in the week to set a time.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“In the meantime, my son Michael will be by to pick up the two paintings of Ice I’ve decided to purchase. Is Wednesday afternoon too soon to have them ready?”
“Not at all. I’ll be here any time after four.”
“Excellent.”
Craig Raymond’s expression changed abruptly. Tom realized why when he detected the subtle, sweet smell of roses hanging in the air. He watched, fascinated, as the man seemed to suppress a shiver like he had been physically touched.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“What? Oh, yes. Yes, of course.”
“You seemed out of sorts for a moment.”
“Did I?” Craig Raymond gave Tom a wavering smile. “Not at all. I only caught the scent of roses, which reminded me of someone. Isn’t it odd how small subtleties can retrieve memories thought long forgotten?”
“Odd, but nonetheless a reality,” Tom replied.
Raymond’s smile was quizzical. “Well put, Mr. Shear. Until next week then.”
Tom shook the man’s hand and watched as he disappeared in the mingling crowd. With questions still filling is mind, he turned to see Kelly standing with Marsha at one of the buffet tables. He strolled over to join them.
“How’s it going?” Marsha asked as she filled the plate she held in her hand.
“Great. I’ve already sold five paintings and had an offer for the entire Rage collection.”
“You’re kidding,” the women blurted.
“I saw you talking to that gentleman over there,” Kelly stated. “Your conversation seemed pretty intense. Is he the one who made the offer?”
“Yep. His name’s Craig Raymond. He’s one of the most respected collectors in the United States. I have to admit, he drove a hard bargain. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I had to promise him first dibs if I decide to sell.”
“You mean you turned him down?” Marsha asked, astonished. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to sell it right now, that’s why.”
“I swear, I’ll never understand the mind of an artist,” she said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “The criminals I study are easier to figure out than you.”
“In case you didn’t know,” he said to Kelly, “Marsha’s a criminal psychologist.”
“I know. We’ve already been through the preliminaries. I think what she does is fascinating.”
“How’s it going by the way?” he asked. “Did you take the DA up on his offer?”
“Of course. Was there ever any doubt?”
“Not really. I knew your tiger instincts would come through. Have you begun the interviews?”
“Yeah. Last week.”
“And what’s your diagnosis, doc? Did he do it?”
“There’s never been any question of whether or not the guy did it. The DA only wants to make sure he’s capable of standing trial. It’s rumored that the defense is looking into an insanity plea because he was abused as a child.”
“Can they really get him off with that?” Kelly asked.
“Not entirely. If the defense plays their cards right, it’s more probable he’ll get a reduced sentence. They’ll probably push for extensive psychological treatment. Depending on his progress, it’s very possible he could make early parole.”
“And what about his son, the victim?” Tom asked. “The one he murdered? Where’s the kid’s justice if his father gets out on good behavior and doesn’t serve his time?”
“The victim’s dead. He can’t be helped now, but the father can.”
Tom shook his head in disgust.
“Yeah, I know,” she said, her tone matching his expression. “Sometimes our judicial system really stinks.”
“To put it mildly.”
“Hey, aren’t we supposed to be enjoying ourselves here? Enough of this depressing conversation. I’m going to find Jonathan.”
As Marsha retreated, Kelly found herself the object of Tom’s watchful gaze.
“Everything’s going very well isn’t it?” she asked.
“Tonight’s success has gone beyond my wildest dreams. Mr. Raymond and I are going to meet next week to discuss a feature of my work in a couple of his galleries. If it works out, it would mean some heavy duty recognition.”
“Tom, that’s wonderful.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Tonight would have been empty without someone to share it with.” Tom’s heart constricted with the gentle smile he received.
“I’m glad you chose me to stand by you,” she replied, searching his eyes.
He raised his hand and traced the delicate line of her jaw. “I hope you realize I plan on spending a lot of time with you in the future, Kelly. Tonight’s only the beginning.”
“Is that a promise?”
Leaning down, he gave in to temptation and kissed the tiny mole at the corner of her mouth. “Most definitely.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tom released a groan of frustration. He groped the bedside-table for the shrilling telephone and fumbled the receiver from its cradle.
“Hello.” His voice was half-muffled by the pillow pressed against his cheek.
“Tom, it’s Marsha. Have you seen the morning paper?” He cracked one eye open and peered at the digital clock with a gimlet stare. Weak morning light was leaking around the edges of the curtains. “Do you know what time it is?” he asked.
“Of course, I do. It’s time for you to get up,” she said, a bit too cheerfully.
“Let me get this straight. You called to wake me up at seven o’clock on a Sunday morning just for the hell of it? What are you, my new alarm clock? How do I turn you off?”
“I can’t believe you,” she said, laughing. “I expected you to be up at the crack of dawn buying out the newsstands.”
“I take it you’ve seen my reviews,” he said, feeling a twinge of stirring excitement.
“I most certainly have. And they’re raving. You’re a success, Tom. A big success. Why don’t you and Kelly come over tonight for a drink? We’ve got to celebrate.”
Barrett Parkway was thick with motorists going to or from Towne Center Mall as Tom drove toward Kelly’s apartment. Upscaled strip malls and restaurants were passed by unnoticed as his mind replayed the events of the night before.
Even Kelly’s reaction had not been what he’d expected. Instead of being repulsed, she had been overcome by the intense sadness the paintings evoked and had surprised him by expressing the same feelings and concerns he had felt from the very beginning.
At the gate of Kelly’s apartment complex, Tom punched in the code she’d given him and wound his way through until he came to building E. He parked, took a deep breath, and then got out. The steps led up and he took them two at a time. Standing in front of Kelly’s door, Tom looked at the flowers he held in his hand, then he
looked down at himself. Satisfied, he took another deep breath, pressed the doorbell, and heard it chime deep within the second-floor apartment. When the door opened, his heart thumped against his ribs.
Kelly’s long hair was loose and hung in waves. The soft green of her long sleeved cashmere dress caused her emerald eyes to sparkle beneath the sooty black of her lashes. It clung to her body and accented her sensual curves to perfection. Unlike the dress she wore last night, this one’s neckline was modest around her slender neck.
“Oh, Tom, they’re beautiful,” she said, accepting the bouquet of white lilies.
Her voice sounded low and seductive to his ears. “They’re not nearly as beautiful as you.”
“Thank you.” A light blush colored her cheeks as she smiled. “Come in. Do we have time for a glass of wine?”
“Sure. There’s no hurry,” he replied. “Jonathan and Marsha aren’t expecting us for another hour.”
“Great. Then let me take your coat.” He slipped out of the garment and she hung it on a coat-tree by the door. “Would you mind doing the honors with the wine while I put these in water? It’s chilling in the refrigerator.”
“I’d be happy to.”
He followed her through a spacious living room made cozy by warm colors, a lush, over-stuffed sofa, a matching chair and ottoman, and rich oak tables. Merlot colored pillows, lamp shades, and candles added the perfect accents. An oak entertainment center lined one wall and was filled with all of the necessary electronic equipment. At the moment, TOTO drifted from the speakers. Family pictures hung on the walls and he caught Jason grinning out at him with seeming approval.
In the open, modern kitchen, Tom retrieved the bottle of wine as Kelly filled a crystal vase with water. He removed the cork with practiced ease and filled two glasses. As they sipped in silence, Tom watched her over the rim of his glass, smiling inwardly when another light blush colored her cheeks.
“Why don’t we sit down,” she suggested, moving toward the sofa. Her dress was several inches above her knees and when she sat and crossed her legs, he caught a peek of lace on her sheer, thigh-high hose before she smoothed her dress into place.
She’s wearing a garter belt. The arousal he was already feeling grew more intense and his penis thickened at an alarming rate. He had to stifle the impulse to kneel in front of her and run his hands up her thighs to find bare skin. Instead, he sat down beside her and searched his mind for something to say.
“I hope you had a good time last night.”
“Oh, I had a great time. Which reminds me,” she said as she gave him a heart-stopping smile. “I think congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you. It did come off rather well.”
“I’m talking about the reviews in this morning’s paper. Everyone thought your work was superb.” She seemed marveled by the glimpse of surprise in his eyes. “Didn’t you read them?”
“Yes, I did. I’m just surprised that you did.”
“Why? It was the first thing I looked for this morning. I think it deserves a celebration.”
Tom smiled at the idea. “As a matter of fact, I’ve made reservations at Aspen’s tonight to do just that. I thought we could have a nice, quiet dinner after our visit with Jonathan and Marsha.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’d thought of treating you to a celebration dinner of my own, but since you mentioned Aspen’s, I think it can wait.”
“Mm. Now that sounds enticing.” His eyes began to smolder, giving meaning to his sly grin. “Tell me more. I might just have to cancel our reservation and make you cook for me.”
Her soft, throaty laughter warmed his blood. He was mesmerized by her smile and her shimmering green eyes.
“I was thinking of cooking you a gourmet dinner served by candlelight,” she said, looking back at him. “A superb bottle of wine would, of course, accompany the meal while soft, relaxing music drifted in the background.” She paused to let the effect sink in. “How does that sound?”
After an imagining pause, Tom found his voice. “It sounds very romantic, that’s how it sounds.”
“What’s the matter with a little romance?” she asked, the flush on her cheeks deepening. “I understand that we’ve just started getting to know one another, but we’re both adults. Sharing a romantic dinner doesn’t mean we have to bare our souls. And besides, a little romance hasn’t killed anyone yet, has it?”
Tom threw back his dark head and laughed. He could feel the tension leaving his body. “As a matter of fact, it has. Just look at what happened to Romeo and Juliet. And then there’s—”
“Okay, okay,” she interrupted, trying to simulate an air of indifference. Her twitching lips gave her away. “So it has pushed a few people to an early demise. If you don’t want to take the chance, then I guess there’s nothing I can say to change your mind.”
Tom stopped smiling. He caressed her chin in a gentle grasp and forced her to meet his gaze. Her cheeks were rosy and her green eyes darkened.
“There’s nothing in the world I’d rather do than spend an evening alone with you, Kelly.”
He released her from his gaze, stood, and pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. He scrolled, pressed a button, and held the phone to his ear.
“This is Thomas Shear. I have a reservation for two tonight that I need to cancel. Yes, that’s right. Thank you.”
He hung up and extended his hand. “Shall we go?”
Tom pulled the Jag into Jonathan and Marsha’s driveway and turned off the engine.
“Nice place,” Kelly said, her realtor’s eyes assessing.
“Yeah,” Tom replied, grinning. “They’re both doing really well.”
He escorted her to the front door with its oval of beveled glass and rang the bell. When the door opened, Jonathan’s smile was welcoming as he stepped back and pulled the door wide.
“Hey, you two. Come on in.” He was dressed casually in jeans, a blue T-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face, and socked feet. His grin widened, uncannily matching the one on his chest, as he gave Tom’s shoulder a solid thump. “Congratulations, buddy.”
“Thanks.”
From the stereo, Steely Dan was telling Jack to do it again as Jonathan led Tom and Kelly into the den and motioned for them to sit down. “Make yourselves comfortable. Would you like a drink? Just name your poison,” he said, taking their coats.
Tom looked at Kelly. “Wine?” he asked and at her nod, lifted two fingers.
“Coming right up.”
Marsha appeared carrying a plate of hors d’oeuvres, which she set on the coffee table beside a couple of lit vanilla scented pillar candles, then gave Tom a hug. Like Jonathan, she was casually dressed in jeans. Her sweater was turquoise and her feet were bare.
“Congratulations,” she said, squeezing hard. “I’m so proud of you I could bust. How does it feel to finally have your dreams come true?”
The battered image of little Emmy standing before him flared in Tom’s mind. As his heart began to swell, he suppressed his sadness and forced a smile.
“I think you’re exaggerating a bit, but I have to admit that I feel pretty good about the whole thing.”
“Can you believe this guy?” Marsha asked, looking at Kelly. “Modest to the end.”
“Marsha’s right, Tom,” Jonathan said, handing them their drinks. “Admit it. You’re an overnight success.”
“That’s yet to be seen,” Tom countered. “Before we go over-board with the praise, let’s wait and see how business is after I open my doors on Friday.”
“Well, if last night’s any indication,” Marsha surmised, “you’ll have more business than you can keep up with.”
Jonathan cast Tom a quizzical glance as he sat across from them. “I still can’t believe you turned down that offer for your Rage collection,” he said, reaching for a piece of toast with pâté. “From what I heard, it was a substantial sum.”
“It was. But I’m not ready to sell. I have a feeling I’m going to be adding to it.
”
“What do you mean, you have a feeling?” Kelly asked.
Tom shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. “Like I said, it’s just a feeling. I’m inspired in that direction, and I don’t feel I’m finished with the theme.”
“You’ve been having a lot of these feelings lately,” Marsha said. “You’re beginning to sound like me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Wasn’t it just a feeling that prompted you to paint the room red in the first place?”
“Basically.” Tom took a sip of his wine.
“Leave the poor guy alone, Marsha,” Jonathan said as he retrieved another bite of food. “I don’t think an artist’s mind was meant to be understood when it’s in action.”
“I think you’re right, Jonathan.” Kelly leveled her gaze on Tom. “Let him keep his secrets. As long as he keeps producing his wonderful art, who’s to question his inspiration?”
Tom smiled his thanks for her allied forces and picked up a shrimp puff hors d’oeuvre. “These look great, Marsha. You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble.”
“Tom, for you, I’d do almost anything,” she said sweetly. “And now that you’ve so obviously changed the subject, I have a question. How did you meet the lovely creature sitting beside you, and how did you manage to keep her a secret from us?”
“I think that’s two questions, darlin’.” Jonathan turned his laughing gaze toward Kelly. “Just grit your teeth and bear it, Kelly. You’ve got to understand that Marsha’s been trying to play matchmaker for years. She can’t stand the fact that Tom’s found someone without her help.”
Marsha had the decency to blush, slapping Jonathan play-fully on the knee.
Twilight had faded and the temperature had dropped when Tom and Kelly said goodbye to Jonathan and Marsha. After escorting Kelly to the car and securing her in the passenger seat, Tom slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
“I’m sorry I put you through that.” He cast Kelly a rueful grin. “Marsha can be a little aggressive sometimes.”
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