9
FIONA
I explainedthe situation to Willow and couldn’t help smiling as she said what she’d like to do to Bergen. Willow came across as calm and collected, but she had a hidden fire that had served her well. She was also surprisingly creative in thinking of ways to punish men who deserved it.
“How has it been working with Zeke?” she asked. “I know you and him don’t get along very well.”
“It’s been better than I expected,” I admitted. “It annoys me that he’s not sold on the idea of Bergen being behind it, but I know it’s probably smart to keep an open mind.”
“Yeah.” Willow grimaced. “I was determined to see Ronan as the enemy when he was looking to take over Lennox Securities, but the more I learned about him, the more I realized I was wrong. Being open-minded isn’t easy, but it pays off.”
“Let’s hope so.” Although honestly, I wasn’t completely ready to let go of the possibility of nailing Bergen. I stood. “Let’s see what those men are up to.”
She gave me a quick hug. “We’ll get this figured out.”
I closed my eyes and allowed myself to enjoy the embrace. I wasn’t usually much of a hugger, but today, I needed them from anyone who was willing to give them. We left the meeting room, and Zeke stuck his head out of Ronan’s office to wave us in. There weren’t enough seats for both of us around the table so I stayed standing with Willow beside me.
Zeke looked me straight in the eye. “If you had to, could you paint a replica ofDaisies?”
The breath whooshed out of my lungs. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t repeat himself, just gazed at me levelly.
“Why are you asking?” We’d already discussed this in the context of the theft four years ago.
“Just answer the question.”
I frowned and crossed my arms protectively over my chest. “I could paint something that might look likeDaisiesat first glance, but it wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny if anyone took more than a couple of seconds to study it. I already told you; Bergen is a better artist than me and he’s better at mimicking famous works of art. He sees it as a challenge.” I glanced at Willow and muttered, “Perhaps I should have realized that was a red flag.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “Maybe. But hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
She wasn’t wrong. I could see so many things now that I’d overlooked at the time. In the days and weeks following the Black Swan theft, I’d raked through my relationship with Bergen to uncover every one of them, and I’d beaten myself up over them mercilessly.
“Will you show me your work?” Zeke asked.
My frown deepened and I shifted uncomfortably. “Why?”
He shrugged. “So I can get a feel for it.”
Or so he could figure out whether I was lying about being a forger. But whatever. I had nothing to hide.
“Everything I have is at my apartment.” I’d sold off most of my work over the past four years and I hadn’t created anything new. I’d tried a few times but whenever I stood at a canvas or touched a paintbrush I was brought back to the night I’d spent in that holding cell, and the awful things that people I’d thought were friends had believed about me. The gossip they’d spread. The lies the police had bought into. I could never bring myself to make more than a few brush strokes before stopping.
He got to his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go then.”
“Call me if you need me,” Willow murmured. “I can come with you now, if you’d like.”
“No, but thank you. We’ll talk soon.”
“Keep us in the loop,” Ronan called as Zeke guided me out of the office.
“I didn’t do this,” I muttered as soon as we were out of their hearing.
“I know.” His tone was soothing, but his expression could have been carved from stone. “You should have told us about your college thesis though.”
I cocked my head. “You mean the essay I wrote aboutSpringtime?”
“I don’t know what it was called,” he replied. “But it was by Monet. You know, the same guy who made the painting you’re suspected of stealing.”
