Page 84 of Canvas of Lies
It wasn’t worth the risk, even if, under other circumstances, I would’ve enjoyed seeing his expression upon learning the truth.
“So you’ll sell it?” I asked, trying to keep him distracted as long as possible.
Chesterfield gestured at me with the gun. “Pack it back up. I’ll do whatever I please, got it?”
Nodding absently, I took my time setting the forged canvas into the crate and replacing the cover. Where the hell were the police? I was running out of time, and if Chesterfield killed me, there was no one else in the house to protect Kat except old Beardsley. She definitely had better odds against her stepfather than the butler did.
Don’t think, don’t think about it.
The refrain echoed through my head. As I turned, I lifted the crate as though to hand it to Chesterfield, then I kept lifting and swung it in a sharp arc back down to connect with the man’s wrist. Chesterfield gave an unholy scream as the weapon fell from his hand, but I decided surviving the tussle was more important than reaching the gun first, so I threw my body in the opposite direction just as the gun went off.
It looked like some kind of pantomime as I landed on the floor in front of the desk. I lay there, staring at the scene before me and wondering why the only sound I could hear was a dull whoosh, even when my new angle revealed Kat swinging the baseball bat at Chesterfield’s left knee. The man’s mouth opened wide in a silent scream as he collapsed onto the rug six feet away.
I blinked up at Kat, watched her lips moving as though she were speaking, but I couldn’t hear the words. Had the gunshot been loud enough to damage my eardrums?
As a flurry of police officers flooded the room behind her, Kat tossed the bat aside and dropped to her knees beside me, running her hands over my shoulders and chest like she was searching for a gunshot wound.
When one of them slapped handcuffs around Chesterfield’s injured wrist, I finally heard the shriek and lowered my head back down to the floor.
Kat’s frantic voice broke through the haze, saying, “There’s an ambulance on its way.”
“Ambulance?” I repeated. I lifted a hand to the side of my head and realized I must have struck the corner of the desk on my way down. When my fingers came away bloody, I mumbled, “Oh. Right.”
After a few minutes of what looked like complete pandemonium, Hanson strode into the room. In place of her usual business suits, she wore a pair of torn jeans and a leather jacket.Stupidly, I thought back to Kat’s torn sleeve on the day of our somewhat unorthodox reunion, and I almost laughed.
Hanson, however, did not look amused. The usually unreadable expression on her face hardened into something grim when her gaze landed on Chesterfield. I watched from my place on the floor as Hanson spoke with the other officers, then the detective headed in my direction.
“Mr. Beaumont,” she said in a light tone that didn’t fool me for a second. “Ms. Willoughby. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”
I reached into my pocket and handed her my phone. “I don’t know if I caught it all on here, but he confessed to everything.”
When I moved to sit up, Kat wrapped her arm around my waist and Hanson offered me a hand. “I probably don’t have to tell you it was stupid and reckless to come down here instead of waiting for the police.”
“No, you probably don’t,” I replied, rubbing a hand over my face. “So much for promising to stay upstairs behind a locked door, huh?”
“You knew that was never going to fly,” she muttered as she curled into my side. A faint tremble coursed through her and I tried not to think about how else this might’ve turned out.
A pair of paramedics arrived and Hanson waved them over. “I want to get your statement and have that injury checked out. Ms. Willoughby, if you wouldn’t mind going with Officer Ford?”
Kat squeezed my torso tightly before nodding and walking out into the hallway with the young policeman.
After Hanson seated herself at Willoughby’s giant desk, I relayed the sequence of events while the paramedics dabbed antiseptic on my head, checked my vision, and left me with an instant ice pack as I finished describing my conversation with Chesterfield to Hanson. A dull ache set in behind my eyes.
She leaned back in the chair, studying my features. I made sure she saw nothing but sincerity in my expression, and if Chesterfield’s confession held up, that was two cases closed. Resignation passed through her eyes as Hanson nodded, shook my hand, and rose. She looked like she needed either a strong cup of coffee or a stiff drink and wasn’t feeling picky about either option.
“I think that’s all for now. Let’s go find your girlfriend.”
Light flooded the hallway and rained down from the chandelier in the foyer, where Kat sat perched at the bottom of the stairs in yoga pants and her nightshirt. Beardsley was beside her, rubbing her hands between both of his while Ford leaned against the banister, looking like this was an everyday occurrence in his world. Kat jumped to her feet when she caught sight of me and launched herself into my arms.
I clasped her tight, murmuring over and over, “It’s okay, Kitten, it’s okay.” Relief seeped through me as the words pierced my own brain.
Before I could wallow in it, however, she drew back and slapped her palms hard against my chest. “Of all the dangerous,idiotic things you could do! What the hell were you thinking, coming down here by yourself? Did you think for one second I would leave you to deal with that alone?”
A laugh from one of the police officers was swiftly disguised as a cough, but my gaze stayed locked on Kat. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with fury, and I was certain she’d never been more beautiful.
“I love you,” I said simply.
Try as she might, Kat couldn’t hold onto the scowl. Her fingers twisted into my shirt. “Don’t ever run into danger like that again. Promise me, Nico.”
