Page 91 of Caper Crush
I shake my head. “That sounds so fake.”
Tessa scrunches up her nose. “I’m losing my touch.”
Me too.I’ve failed my uncle and Takashi. I have no more ideas on how to investigate Vinnie. Or how to prove it’s Edmund.
Penelope finishes her tea and leaves to go back downstairs. Tessa and I work in a companionable silence as I sketch a portrait of William. I have it bad. Is it because I’ve been warned off? Forbidden fruit and all that. I know it’s not. It’s because he’s a good guy. I want to call him to share what I’ve been doing and to bother him. I have to pull back and not give in to my feelings. It is so hardnotcalling him.
His half smile makes my heart flutter every single time. I sigh.
Not being able to waitress is lovely, though. Having all this time to paint is allowing me to go deeper and fully concentrate on what I am trying to achieve. Anya’s friend and Max’s friend have each come by for a gallery visit and both bought paintings, so I’m not even out of income.
My phone rings. It’s William. My heart does a little pitter-patter.Calm down.
“How’s your foot?” he asks.
“My foot is doing much better, thank you,” I say formally. “Staying off it is working. How are your feet?”
He chuckles. “My feet are doing very well. They’re comfortably ensconced in slippers. And Pochi is resting his head on them.”
“Aw. My foot is not doing as well as your feet. But I am able to put some weight on it.” I smile. “And my arm muscles are getting a workout from the crutches. Have your arm muscles recovered from carrying me?”
“Yes.” He makes a scoffing noise as if it was nothing. “Have you been okay staying at home?”
“Yes, Tessa, Penelope, and Zelda are keeping me well stocked. We had a girls’ dinner the other night and watched Hitchcock’sRear Window. And I’ve been painting so much. It’s great not to have to waitress or bartend.”
“Oh, so you’re not bored at all.” He sounds disappointed.Has William missed me?“I’ve been really busy with work, so I didn’t have a chance to call.”
“I don’t get bored. I can always paint or read or watch movies.”
“I thought you might be bored.”
“Nope,” I say, very cheerfully.
There’s silence on the other end. I decide to throw him a life preserver.
“But I have missed detecting with you,” I say.
“Oh? Well, um, I …” He clears his throat. “You were right about Edmund’s olive oil farms not doing well. I did some research, and his farm is in the area experiencing a drought. He does have a financial motive.”
“I knew Edmund was lying. We could check out his apartment. I haven’t thought of any other ways to prove it’s him,” I say. “And Officer Johnson called earlier and said they tried to run a sting operation, but the seller didn’t show up when they were supposed to meet to exchange the painting for money.”
“At least the police are trying to do something.”
“I know. But he said that was about all they could do.”
“How would we check out Edmund’s apartment?” William asks. “I doubt it’s going to be easy to break into it.”
“I have his key.”
“He gave you his key?”
“No, Annabelle has a copy, which she keeps in a jar in her bedroom, and I made a copy of it when I was dog-sitting,” I say. “Unfortunately, I also realized that Edmund probably could have done the same with my key, so we changed the locks here.”
“If he’s smart, he’ll lie low.”
“Anyway, I don’t want to tip him off that I suspect him, so I think it’s best not to check out his apartment, in case he finds out,” I say. The shock of the nearly violent encounter in Brooklyn makes me wary.
“That makes sense.”
