The woman hesitated. “I can call and see if she’s willing to meet with you. Who may I say is looking for her?”
“Fiona Ryan.” I searched her eyes for a hint of recognition but thankfully there was nothing. Perhaps the police hadn’t shared their suspicions with the gallery yet, or perhaps Patience hadn’t shared with the staff.
“One minute, Miss Ryan.” She withdrew her cell phone and made a call. I turned away and tried not to eavesdrop as she spoke to Patience. After a few moments, she lowered the phone. “Patience will be here in a minute.”
“Thank you very much.”
I backed away from the booth, stopping when I sensed a presence behind me.
“Are you sure about this?” Zeke asked, his lips so close to my ear that I shivered.
“Yes.” As sure as I could be of anything in my current state.
We waited together in silence until the tapping of heels on the hardwood floor told me somebody was coming. Patience entered the foyer. Her eyebrows knitted together as her gaze fell on me.
“Fiona,” she said as she came nearer. “What a surprise to see you here.”
“I heard you’ve had some problems,” I said.
“Erm, yes.” She pursed her lips. “That’s one way to put it.”
I reached for her hand, but she stepped back, her eyes widening as if the move shocked her as much as it had me. “I hope you know I didn’t do it.”
Patience looked uncomfortable. “If anyone has suggested that, it wasn’t me.”
I rubbed my jaw, frustrated. I wasn’t trying to say she had. I just wanted her to see the truth, and I’d been sure she would, but now I felt a hint of doubt. The way she side-eyed Zeke made me wonder if she thought I’d come here to intimidate her, and that he was my muscle.
“I didn’t steal those paintings four years ago, and I haven’t stolen anything now,” I said firmly. “That said, it probably was my fault the theft at the Black Swan Gallery happened. I believe my boyfriend, Bergen, was behind it and used my key card to get access to the gallery.”
She frowned. “Did the police look into that?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “They didn’t agree with me.”
“Oh.” She glanced at the door she’d come through, as though wondering whether she could make a swift retreat.
“I swear, Patience, I didn’t take the Monet. Even if I was a thief, I’d never do that to you. I’m sure it’s put your job in jeopardy to have lost such an important piece.”
Her eyes flashed. “I didn’t lose it. It was stolen.”
“But not by me. Don’t worry; I’ll find out who’s behind it.” I gestured to Zeke. “This is Zeke Watts, one of the directors of King’s Security, which is where I work now. He’s going to help me get to the bottom of this.”
Patience backed up a step. “I think you should leave that to the police.”
“We—” I cut off when Zeke laid a hand on my shoulder. I jerked in surprise. I hadn’t expected him to touch me.
“We’re just assisting the police as much as we can,” Zekesaid with the kind of easy smile he turned on every unsuspecting woman. “The more we can do to help them, the better, right?”
Patience melted in the face of his charm, the stiffness fading from her posture. “I suppose so.”
“You’re the manager of this gallery?” he asked. I wanted to demand to know where he was going with this line of questioning. I’d already told him she was. But I kept my mouth shut because my approach wasn’t getting anywhere and much as I disliked the way he charmed everyone around him, it might be what we needed.
ZEKE
I ignoredthe indignant redhead at my side and focused on the pretty brunette we’d come here to talk to.
“Yes, I am,” Patience said. “For five years now.”
“That’s a challenging role. You must have started young.” I’d guess she was around the same age as me, so she’d have been in her early thirties when she became manager.
