Page 82 of Fresh Canvas
“Rooms? How many are there?”
Val’s face screwed up in concentration.“I’ve only been down there a handful of times, but I think there were three different storage rooms. The service elevator opens into a hall with three doors, each of whose locks require a four digit code that changes almost daily.”
“So the logs show whose keycard was scanned for theelevator, but there isn’t any way to see who went in the storage rooms?”
“Correct.” Val leaned against his chair, blowing out a sigh. “If we could find the exact date that Attersee got admitted into storage, I could streamline my search a little.”
My brows furrowed. “How in the world do wenothave that information?”
“The storage logging software only locates which room and section the art is being stored in. Not the date it was admitted.”
“What about the condition reports? They have dates. There should be one from when it was taken down from thelastexhibition…” My words sped with inspiration. “Which would be the same day it got logged into storage!” Flushed with excitement, I met Val’s amused look.
“You are way too into this, Adams.”
“Get on my level, Russo! We're not gonna solve the case withthatattitude.”
He laughed, then aimed a contemplative expression at nothing in particular. “You’re right though. We've gotta find that condition report,” he said. “Before the gala, Kendra putmein charge of writing the condition report for Attersee once it was unboxed. But we need the condition report before mine.”
“Shouldn’t that be an easy find?”
Val shrugged and said, “Itshouldbe. But I get a sense that none of this will be as easy as it seems. Our organizational system isn’t the best, and there’s been more than a few human errors over the years.”
“We’ll find it,” I assured him. “I mean, if you were Kendra?—”
“Or Blythe.”
“OrKendra.”
A surge of irritation flared my nostrils. I glowered at his smirk and continued. “Wouldn’t it make sense to steal the original Attersee after it got taken down, butbeforeit got logged into storage? The painting would have had to acclimate in the storage room before the crate could even be shut. Forty-eight hours would be more than enough time to replace it with a forgery.”
“That’s a great point.”
“I wonder which room it was stored in,” I said.
“When the handlers brought the box up from storage before the gala, I saw a label with the number one on it.”
“So it was stolen from the first room?”
“It's possible.” Val grinned. “Hey, we’re getting pretty good at this, Watson.”
“Watson?” I scoffed. “You mean Sherlock. There’s no way I’myoursidekick.”
Val chuckled, his dark gaze sweeping over me. “Fine. I must say, you make a very beautiful Sherlock.”
I blushed, glanced at the floor, and tucked a wavy lock behind my ear.
Val positively beamed.
After dinner, I helped Val clean the kitchen. I loved doing something normal, domestic even, with him by my side. My mouth ran dry at the sight of Val’s strong forearms covered in soapy bubbles. What could I say? The homesteading version of Val was beyond sexy.
“How about a couple episodes ofWhisper Harbor?” Val asked as he loaded the last dish and pressed a button on the dishwasher.
“Say less.” I wandered over, sinking onto his luxurious, cream-colored couch. It felt like being hugged by a fluffy suede cloud. I couldn’t hold back my satisfied sigh. “Um, why does this couch feel so amazing?”
“Because you don’t even own one. How would you know?”
“Again, Idoown one.” I laughed. “And nice throw pillows, by the way.”
