Page 58 of Whispers of Redemption

“Whoa!” Cassie said, her eyes wide. “Sooo, why would Zack have a photograph of it on his desk?”

Wade looked off into the distance. “That’s a great question. I don’t know.”

“Do you think it could have anything to do with my stolen painting?”

He thought for a moment, then shook his head slowly. “I don’t see how they could be connected. I mean, they’re two completely different paintings. Plus, Zack has an alibi for the time the painting was stolen from your van. He was at Olga’s when it happened. And there’s no way he could have been involved in the theft of The Concert. He would have only been a young child when that happened.”

“But you agree it’s weird, right?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely weird.”

Cassie got up and started pacing around the tiny apartment. Angel and Wade’s heads moved in tandem as they watched her. The dog had hopped up onto the sofa beside Wade, taking Cassie’s place. “Let me get all this straight,” she said. “We know the painting that was in my van was Madonna and Child with San Giovannino by Cristofano Roncalli. And we know it was stolen by Brett.”

Wade opened his mouth, but she cut him off, knowing what he was going to say.

“I know we can’t prove that. Yet,” she said.

He grinned.

She continued pacing. “But let’s say, for the sake of argument, that Brett stole it.” She began ticking off on her fingers in a way that strangely reminded him of himself. “Second, we know that Zack had a photograph of a very expensive stolen painting on his desk. And third, we know that there’s something strange going on between Zack and Brett.”

“Well...” he started to say, but she gave him a look and he closed his mouth.

She paced another minute and then threw up her hands. “I give up. What does all this mean?”

He shook his head and then gave a little shrug. “I guess,” he reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her onto his lap, “it means, Dr. Watson, that the game is afoot!”

“What?”

He closed his eyes, feeling as if he was in actual physical pain. “Please tell me you’ve watched Sherlock Holmes mysteries before.”

She bit her lip.

“Cassie, Cassie, Cassie.” He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

She looked at him, her emerald eyes twinkling. “I’m sure you can think of something.” And she lowered her mouth to his.

All thoughts of the case and the stolen paintings left their minds as Wade entered willingly into the second make-out session of his life.

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