Page 70 of Canvas of Lies
Her laughter followed us as we got out of the car to meet Erin, who stood beside a purple Volkswagen. She winked at Kat and took the bag from my hand. “Hello, my lovelies. We’re not going to get arrested for whatever it is we’re doing, right?”
“No, you are definitely not doing anything illegal,” Kat assured her. “Just ship this to the address I sent you.”
“Don’t think for one second that I didn’t notice you saidyouinstead ofwe.In any case, I don’t need the details. It’s going to your family in France, right?” Erin asked me.
I flashed a wide smile. I liked Kat’s quirky assistant. From what I’d seen of her, of their interactions together, the two women complemented one another perfectly.
“Yes, to my uncle in Avignon. Thank you for doing this.”
“No problem. You said no authentication necessary, so it’s just a quick stop. You really didn’t have to give me a paid day off in exchange for this, Kat.”
“You’re doing us a favor on short notice, and you replied to my plea for help while you were very clearly busy with a certain lovely redhead. You deserve a long weekend and I really appreciate this, Erin. Text me when it’s done, okay? And thank you.”
Kat gave her a quick hug and flashed a smile as Erin set the bag on her passenger seat and slid back into her car.
“See you on Tuesday, darling. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!” Erin called, bouncing her eyebrows up and down before she pulled out of the lot.
I choked on a laugh. “I have to say, your assistant seems to think she’s your wingman. Wingwoman? She realizes you don’t need that particular service anymore, right?”
Kat rolled her eyes as we got back into my new car. “Don’t let it go to your head. Before you showed up here with Gumby that day, she was encouraging me to get it on with a history professor named Alan.”
“Ouch.”
“I wasn’t planning to, if it makes you feel any better.”
“Yes, so much better,” I said dryly.
We drove straight back to my apartment, even though I wasn’t entirely sure how much more Kat could take of being cooped up inside. I needed the computers to complete my work, but it was becoming stifling, this period of limbo, but I was afraid to let her out of my sight.
“Let’s do something fun tomorrow,” I suggested after we got inside.
Kat narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you reading my mind, Nicolas?”
I took her hands and squeezed. “No, but I don’t have to be psychic to see how you’re feeling. I know this has been a long few weeks for you. What should we do? Garage sale hunting? Go for a hike? Swim naked in the pond at the park?”
“I’ll think about it and get back to you. Go on, work your magic. Erin should be done at Perkins-Hallihan soon.” She dropped onto the couch and closed her eyes. “I’ll be right here for the foreseeable future.”
I leaned down to kiss her forehead before returning to my office. With the actual painting also departing for Europe, the tracking number switch would be fairly simple—by Monday evening, the Clément would be delivered safely to Uncle Philippe, while Lavigne would receivethe Elvis.
No matter how hard I tried to keep myself from thinking too far beyond that, it was impossible to avoid speculating about the outcome of the swap.
Lavigne would be furious. I wasn’t entirely sure Willoughby would be able to smooth things over, even if he returned the buyer’s money. For a few minutes, the possible scenarios played out in my mind. Would Willoughby panic and try to cover it up by offering the forgery to Lavigne? Would he guess that Kat and I were involved in some way?
A twinge of guilt marred my concentration, but I remembered Kat’s terrified cry when that car forced us off the road. The man had put his own child’s life in danger. Willoughby didn’t deserve my concern for his safety.
Then again, if a man like Lavigne came into possession of whatever was on that SD card, a whole host of dangerous problems could be unleashed on Aidan Willoughby.
In a roundabout way, maybe I was protecting Kat’s father, after all.
Kat called to me from the other room when she received the text from Erin saying the package was officially out of her hands—or, as Erin phrased it, “The eagle has flown.” With her part in the day’s activities complete, Kat curled up on her side and closed her eyes again while I set myself up to swap the delivery locations for the two tracking numbers.
It didn’t take long to make the adjustments, but by the time I returned to the living room, Kat was sound asleep. A faint smilelifted my lips as I spread a blanket over her and sifted my fingers through the tumble of honey blonde curls haloing her face.
With the painting finally making its way back to the Beaumont family, neither Kat nor I would lose that essential link to something bigger than ourselves—connection, belonging, acceptance. Those things might not be tangible, but the painting gave each ephemeral concept a concrete form for both of us.
We’d be safe.
Everything I’d ever wanted was finally within reach. Next order of business? Keeping it there.
