Despite the hesitancy in her expression, Jill nodded.
“First thing in the morning, Lacy and I will go to the Aubergine Art Collective and see what we can find out about the painting—exactly what it’s worth, who has owned it, where else it’s been displayed, if anyone has been inquiring about this specific one.” As I spoke, I shut the lockbox and handed her the key for safekeeping.
I ordered the things we knew for sure in my mind once again:
Bella Rivera cut the Perry painting out of the frame at The Rose.
This same painting somehow made its way to a lockbox in Valerie Hurt’s name.
Will Hurt was likely working with Todd Anderson to sell this painting on the black market.
The Swansons had an art theft operation at play.
Most significantly, a man was dead.
I let out a shuddering sigh as Lacy and I made our way back into the cold night and to the frigid car, thinking as I went.
If we could figure out why this painting was important and how long Will had been working with Todd, then maybe we would better understand the Swansons’ sudden interest in our little town—and we would be that much closer to finding Todd’s killer… or at least I hoped we would.
TWENTY-EIGHT
I only slept about four hours because Lacy set our alarm for shortly after sunrise. When I opened my eyes, she was already sitting in the wingback chair, dressed, and looking fresh as she tapped her foot restlessly.
“It’s my wedding day,” she said, the words tinged with fear rather than the excitement she deserved to be feeling, but for the first time that weekend, she seemed more like the friend I’d always known, a woman determined to take names and get shit done.
“It’s your wedding day,” I repeated back to her, forcing a smile as I struggled to open my eyes against the morning sun already glaring off the mounds of snow that had fallen overnight. “How long have you been awake?”
“Long enough to shower and get ready.” Lacy pulled the covers off of me, and I rolled out of bed. “Your turn.”
“I can be ready in ten,” I managed as I ran the hottest shower known to man before washing my hair super-fast, toweling off, throwing on my comfiest jeans, and brushing my teeth.
I grabbed the cylinder with the rolled-up canvas of the painting, hefted it over my shoulder, and started out the door, thinking about how Bella Rivera had done this very thing when she’d stolen it on Friday night.
Bella, in her desperation to be one of the Swansons, must’ve thought she was working for the wealthy family the entire time. At some point though she’d handed the painting off to Todd, who was acting as a kind of double agent in this entire scheme and must’ve had it deposited in the lockbox at the bank for safe keeping. Unfortunately for Todd, whatever his plans might’ve been, they’d obviously gone very, very wrong.
As we turned the corner of the hall, I stopped and faced Lacy, taking a long look at her before we continued on. “How are you feeling about today?”
“I couldn’t sleep much last night, so I thought a lot.” Lacy’s words were resolute as she met my eyes. “Anton isn’t his family, and they aren’t him. That much I know. So, if we get married today or next week or next year, I don’t really care. But to answer your question, I’m ready for today, whatever it looks like.”
