Page 43 of Her Dark Lies
“Well, this proves it,” Jack says. “Someonehasbeen spying on us. And whoever is behind it, they’re related to this Ami Eister woman.”
I’m feeling more secure that I’ve shared this news now. This wasn’t supposed to be an awful surprise, but a wonderful one. I was going to tell him after the rehearsal dinner. Jack, the Comptons, have been so instrumental in my recent success that when Ami Eister came to visit, I felt like I’d conquered a hill of my own. Brought more to the table, an unseen, unqualified dowry of sorts.Jolinawill go for six figures, easily, possibly even seven, to the right buyer. She is my best work.
Karmen has been making notes. “Claire, did you save the business card?”
“I did, it’s in my studio in Nashville. She was based out of New York, that I do remember.”
“We should have the studio swept immediately,” Jack says. “If there were cameras in the house, chances are they’re elsewhere. This is unbelievable.” He mutters the last, and I can only imagine the shitstorm that’s about to be unleashed inside the Compton Security division. It’s an invasion of our privacy, absolutely, but clearly it’s something more. I know exactly what Jack is thinking—how could they let this happen? Especially with the end result of the break-in. Everything I’ve just said is true, and he knows it. Despite his assurances, it can hurt us if our narrative is challenged. If someone has it on tape? We’re screwed.
“You’re sure you haven’t mentioned the piece—Jolina—to anyone?” Karmen asks.
“I’m 100 percent sure. It’s a superstition of mine. I’ve only told Jack.”
“Okay. Other than an overly familiar interest in your art, any idea why someone would want to spy onyou?”
“Goodness, no.”
“This woman did come to see you though, Claire. The break-in was at your primary residence. We can’t discount that this is about you.”
“Stop it, Karmen. You’re scaring her.”
She’s not scaring me, she’s pissing me off, royally, but I keep my mouth shut. I am a good soldier. I’m going to follow Jack’s lead, especially within the family.
“All right. I appreciate this information. I will follow up, have a conversation with Ami Eister, see how she came to know the name of your painting. I’ll let you know if I find out anything more. Try to enjoy yourselves, though I know it might be hard. I have this under control. No one will hurt you. Not on my watch.”
Karmen leaves, and Jack takes her seat opposite me.
Without the buffer of the strangers across the sea and the diminutive head of security, I wilt under his keen attention. Jack clears his throat. Here we go.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Claire?Jolinais a big deal.”
“I know. That’s why I didn’t say anything. I wanted to surprise you with a sale I’d brokered on my own.”
“But that’s why Mom hooked you up with Anton Bowmore. He’s supposed to handle the business so you can focus exclusively on the creation. All of the press we’ve been doing lists him as the contact, and everyone knows he’s representing you. Why didn’t Eister go to him? And why didn’t you tell her to speak with him immediately? Did you call him, let him know?”
“That’s a lot of questions, Jack.”
“I’m sorry. One at a time, then.”
“I didn’t think to send her to Anton right away. I guess I got caught up in the idea of handling it myself. I was flattered that she sought me out. You don’t realize, Jack, that sometimes, all of this—” I wave my hand, gesturing vaguely toward the exquisite library and meaning so much more “—I’m not used to it. I’m not used to being the center of attention, and I’m not used to the press, the scrutiny. I’m certainly not used to my art being of worth to strangers. It’s wonderful, and an ego stroke like nobody’s business, but emotionally I’m still the struggling artist you met the night of the art crawl.”
“You will never have to struggle again, Claire. Never.”
I run my fingers along his hairline, from his forehead to ear, touched by his sincerity. “Struggle is good for art, Jack. It’s part of the process. Just don’t be mad at me, okay? I know I screwed up, but I wanted to surprise you. It won’t happen again.”
“I’m not mad, darling. And you’ve hardly caused a mess. But going forward you really do need to remember who you are. You’re about to be Claire Compton, and that comes with certain responsibilities. Let Mom and Anton handle the business. You create. You are the most talented painter I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re just being nice now. Buttering me up isn’t going to fix this. If the police figure out who planted the cameras, and see the footage, they will know we’re lying. With the servers being hacked, and the note Elliot received... Jack, we’re vulnerable here. I know you see that.”
“Not if we get to the truth first. And we will. Karmen is very good at her job. She will find the answers. Out of curiosity,” he asks, “did you look her up? Ami Eister?”
“Well, yes, I did, but there wasn’t much to see. She has a website, and an Instagram, though it’s private. Check her out, you’ll see.”
He pulls out his phone and taps the screen a few times. I can see his eyes flying, processing. “Her LinkedIn profile is pretty bare bones. The website is as well. But that’s not unusual for these dealers. I don’t know the name, maybe Anton will. I’ll ask him.”
“Jack? Are we going to talk about what happened at the house? And why? Someone’s been spying on us. That man wasspyingon us. He broke into our home, and now he’s dead. And I—I still don’t remember everything, but really, I think—”
Jack’s brow furrows but he smooths his thumb across my mouth in a startlingly intimate gesture, considering the topic at hand. “Darling. You let me worry about this, all right? My parents and Elliot need to know what’s happened, both with the house and with this mysterious art buyer, and though Karmen’s on it, I want to mention the squatter in the cottages. Karmen will get to the bottom of things. She will handle the police going forward. Don’t worry yourself anymore.”
