She hesitated for a second, then met my eyes. “You’re right. The fact that this one painting might match the site of a body isn’t enough. But if there are more…”
“The police will take it seriously.”
“Now I feel a little bit bad for suspecting his son. And Amanda.”
“I don’t know. Those two still might have something to do with it. Maybe he was a murdererandhe was murdered.”
“True, that’s possible. How are we going to find out if the other paintings are real places?”
“Remember what the lady at the gallery was saying? How most of Morris’s paintings are general landscapes. But a few have a defining feature or a landmark, like the barn in that one. And didn’t the other one with a note have a cabin?”
“It did. And the one I have at home has that big rock formation by the creek.”
“Exactly. I bet we can find out where they are. They could be local.”
“The background in the creek painting does look like it’s around here.”
“Agreed.”
“I’m a little creeped out at the idea of hunting for murder victims. But all we need is a little bit of evidence and law enforcement can do the rest, right?”
“Absolutely. No shovels needed.”
She snort-laughed. “I’m sorry. Laughing at that is very morbid.”
“It’s all kinds of absurd, when you think about it.” I turned on the
truck. “Ready, Detective Fallbrook?”
“Ready, Detective Haven.”
“By the way.” I put the truck in reverse. “Penny?”
She groaned. “Don’t even think about it. Grandma Colleen is the only person who calls me Penny.”
Grinning at her, I chuckled. She smiled back.
Just friends, Theo. Just friends.
That was the only way this was going to work—and the only way she wasn’t going to get hurt.
CHAPTER 26
Theo
Despite not needingto be anywhere, I woke up early Saturday morning. I sat at the dining table with my laptop and a cup of coffee, scrolling through hiking blogs. The Morris mystery was a good distraction. And I needed it. My team had won again last night. Decisively. But it wasn’t the game that kept creeping into my mind while I searched for locations that matched Morris’s paintings. It was the scent of Pen’s shampoo wafting from her bathroom. The tea collection on the kitchen counter. Her coat hanging by the door.
Her presence was everywhere. As it should have been. I wanted her to feel comfortable—like she really lived there, not like it was a temporary place to crash.
Before I could think too deeply about the confusing mix of feelings tugging at my chest, her bedroom door opened. She marched to the dining room, and the contrast between her serious expression and straight spine—she seemed very sure of something—and her messy bun made me crack a smile.
“Morning, Pentacular.”
“Morning. I’ve decided something.”
I raised my eyebrows.
She put her hands on her hips and her tone was decisive. “I’m getting the rest of my stuff from Sean’s house.”
