Page 108 of Chasing Caine

She swiped at her cheek again and turned to see what I was pointing at. “That’s mine, actually. There was another one there when we moved in—a very quote-unquotehotellandscape. They put it into storage for us.”

I opened my bottle, the cap cracking just as the carbonation escaped the top. There was a painting on the wall next to the patio door and a couple of small ones on the shelves. “These, too?”

“All mine. Um…” She crossed the room, squeezing between me and the bed, to angle one of the paintings on the shelf toward me. Books and knickknacks surrounded it. “I got a call from the gallery that you’d come in looking to talk to me. I figured it was probably about Umberto, but part of me was hoping your boyfriend was interested in one of my paintings.”

The piece she moved was only a foot wide, eight inches high, sitting on a small easel stand. A conceptual landscape with meandering river and rich jewel tones with loose, easy brush strokes.

“This is beautiful.” I reached for it, but she didn’t let go. Odd.

“Thank you.” She inclined her head toward another painting on the shelves, closer to me. It was just as stunning, but the fact that she continued to hold the other one inspired more interest.

A television turned on in the next apartment, its volume loud enough to highlight how thin the walls must be. An action movie, by the sounds of gunfire and explosions.

We both startled, laughing. In the process, she nudged the painting she’d been holding. Revealing a sliver of terracotta behind it. A rounded shape.

Like a little pot.

She wasn’t highlighting the painting. She was hiding something.

Change the topic before she realizes, Sam.“Do your neighbors always listen to things so loud?”

“Always!” She rolled her eyes dramatically, adjusting the painting again and finally letting go of it. “But it was hard to find somewhere big enough for just four months in our price range.”

I placed my water on the desk and pulled out my phone. “Can I take a picture of these two paintings? Antonio’s been looking for a few smaller pieces to decorate his place while he’s here.”

She straightened, brows raising. “Really?”

“Absolutely.” Not at all. I needed a photo of that pot to see if it was one of the ones removed from the Pompeii lab. And if it was, was she intentionally moving that painting to hide it from me? Because that would mean she knew what it was.

“Do you want me in the photo?”

“With the first one, yes, so I don’t forget.” I took one shot, then stepped back, knocking into the corner of the bed and falling onto it. “Tight fit in here.”

“I imagine Dr. Ferraro lives in a huge villa outside the city, doesn’t he?” She offered me a hand to help me up.

“Thanks.” The fall had gotten me closer to the painting, at a better angle to photograph the terracotta pot. I followed it up with several pictures of the second painting. Despite my ulterior motives, her paintings were quite lovely.

“Can I see?” she asked.

I scrolled through to find the best one and zoomed in before flipping the phone for her. If she was hiding the pot intentionally, I couldn’t let her see that most of the photos contained at least part of it. “This one’s the best.”

“You think he’ll like it?”

“I’m sure he’ll…” I placed a hand on my belly and grimaced. “Can I use your…” I pointed at the bathroom door and dashed in before she could respond. Not graceful, but it worked.

With the door closed, I zoomed in on the pigment pot, able to inspect the lump of pink inside it more closely. It was either an excellent reproduction or the real thing. Considering it was in the apartment of the fresco thief whose girlfriend was trying to conceal it from me, this had to be it.

Hands shaking, I texted Elliot,Not sure how they missed this. Did no one search Umberto’s place? Because his girlfriend was hiding it from me!

Then texted him the photo which highlighted the pigment pot, the one with Eva, and her address.

The three dots of a response started dancing right away, and his reply came through.You there legally?

I bit on my lip to control the chuckle.Yes

I’ll call Bruno. We’ll be there soon.

We didn’t have the fresco—or from what I could see, both missing pigment pots—but this was something. An art crimes team’s priority was recovery, not prosecution. We’d have one piece back and maybe Eva knew where the rest was.

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