Page 51 of Steal My Heart

“Sure, come on in. They look like sweet dogs.” She stepped back, and the dogs led the way in like the princesses they were. “My deadbeat ex-husband was allergic to animals, so Nathan and I could never have pets when he was growing up. Now I suppose I could have one, but I guess I never got around to getting one.” She bent over to give each of the dogs a scratch. “Let me get some bowls.” She left them in the living room and went into the big kitchen just beyond. “I’m sorry about Nathan. He’s really a good boy. After his father left us for some floozy in his office, it’s just been the two of us.” Water ran, and Hilliard looked around the room.

The furniture had seen better days. It was worn but looked comfortable, just like the house. It was clean and well cared for. Hilliard guessed that money was tight and had been for a while. He understood about just hanging on. He’d done plenty of it when he was younger.

The walls were covered in what looked like original, if maybe amateurish, paintings and pictures of Nathan as he grew up. Everywhere he looked, a smiling face shone down, a few with missing front teeth.

“What are you doing?” Brian whispered as Hilliard went to take a closer look at a picture that had been enlarged and now hung in the center of the main wall. It was one of Nathan surfing.

“That was taken when Nathan won the junior championship out in Hawaii,” his mother said. Hilliard turned as she set thebowls on the mat near the door. The dogs immediately began drinking. Hilliard looked back to the picture.

“How long ago was that?”

“A little over two years. I could never have afforded to send him, let alone go along, but Nathan won a place, and the organization was so excited to have him that they paid for the whole trip.” She beamed as she told the story, but Hilliard was barely paying attention. A long shelf ran under the picture. It held a couple of trophies, a small bottle of sand, a Hummel child in a swing, and two small detailed figurines that had yellowed with age. “Nathan gave those to me after we got back.” She must have seen him admiring the small pieces. “To thank me, I guess.” The way she beamed told Hilliard plenty about how she felt about her son.

“Thank you for getting the dogs some water. We really appreciate it,” Brian said from behind him. The dogs had lain down on the floor. Nathan’s mom picked up the bowls and took them to the kitchen as Hilliard headed for the door. When she returned, she once again looked toward the picture on the wall.

“That was the happiest time in Nathan’s life,” she told them. A kettle whistled in the kitchen, and she went to deal with it.

Hilliard pulled out his phone and took a couple of quick pictures while looking like he was checking something. The whistle stopped and she returned. She saw them to the door, and Hilliard thanked her again for being so good to the dogs before they stepped out into the morning.

“I guess that was a waste of time,” Brian said softly as they walked back toward town. “I need to get to work or I’ll never get what I need to done.” He strode toward Beverly’s at a fast pace, with Hilliard struggling to keep up. Brian stopped outside the gate at the front walk, breathing heavily, glaring at Hilliard. “What is so interesting on your phone?” His gaze narrowed.

“Let’s go inside,” Hilliard said, leading Brian up the walk.

“Mrs. Weller called and was asking when you’d be by. I told her about eleven,” Gran told Brian, who relaxed a little. “I knew you two were up to something.”

“Not much. Just a trip down Nathan memory lane for Mrs. West. She was nice enough to give the dogs water.”

“She did more than that,” Hilliard said.

“Excuse me?” Brian sat on the sofa, and Hilliard sat next to him, the dogs each taking a lap.

Hilliard pulled out his phone and enlarged one of the pictures. “These two small figurines are netsukes. They’re Japanese, and I’m willing to bet they were stolen from Violet. A little over two years ago, give or take, Nathan was in a junior surfing championship in Hawaii, a trip that was supposedly paid for.” He held Brian’s gaze as the pieces filled in.

“You mean…?”

Hilliard nodded. “Let’s say that one of his friends, Kendall or Kevin, was telling surfer-boy Nathan a story about where their gran kept some of her valuables. You can even hear a joke about granny panties and stuff. Nathan goes in when Violet is at church and robs the place, knowing where some things are. He also grabs anything else that’s small and looks valuable. Then he gets out of the house and goes home. Maybe he goes to San Francisco and sells the goods a few days later. Then he uses the money to take himself and his mom to Hawaii, using some grand story about the organization paying, and there you have it. The goods are gone, and he doesn’t think anything of the figurines—they aren’t silver or anything—so he gives the ivory pieces to his mom, saying he got them for her in Hawaii, and she puts them on the shelf in plain sight all this time.”

“Jesus,” Brian breathed. “Is that it?”

“Yeah. And if Frank had left well enough alone and not been so afraid that his boys had been the thieves, Nathan would have been caught some time ago. He was a suspect—”

“Until another one landed in their lap,” Beverly interjected, shaking her head. “I’ll call Grant, and he can check with Violet that those are her pieces. Then he can wrap this up and bring it to an end.” She put her head back in her chair, looking tired. “I’ve dreamed of this. I knew it wasn’t my Brian.” She leaned forward, her eyes suddenly filled with fire. “But I swear if I get my hands on Nathan West, I’ll give him the spanking he’s long deserved.” She got out of her chair and stalked to the kitchen. Hilliard hoped he never pissed her off, that was for sure.

Hilliard smiled and Brian sighed, leaning against him. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Hilliard asked.

“Everything,” he whispered. “For believing in me, for finding out about Frank, about Nathan, for standing by me….” His voice broke. “For loving me when most people thought I was a thief.”

Hilliard kissed him gently. “There’s no need to thank me, sweetheart. Somehow I think I got the better end of the deal.” He nuzzled the spot behind Brian’s ear. “I found a hot guy who is gentle, kind, and handy around the house. And he loves me.” What more could he want?

Epilogue

HILLIARD GOTout of bed, careful not to wake Brian, who was stretched out next to him. With the covers kicked to the foot of the bed, his perfect bare butt was on display. He stepped to the window as winter rain fell outside, the clouds so close to the ground that everything seemed to disappear into them.

“What time is it?” Brian groaned.

“Close enough,” Hilliard said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

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