Out of the Picture

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Out of the Picture Page 1

by Tracy Gardner




  Table Of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Holy Yum Baked Chicken

  About the Author

  Sneak peek of Behind the Frame

  Out of the Picture

  Copyright 2019 @ Tracy Gardner

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Print ISBN 978-1-947892-62-0

  eBook ISBN 978-1-947892-63-7

  www.hallmarkpublishing.com

  Chapter One

  Savanna Shepherd breathed deeply, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the crisp fall air that was somehow sweeter on this side of Lake Michigan. Those vast blue waves with beautiful whitecaps made it seem more like an ocean; she’d never tire of it. It was good to be home.

  Savanna let the small poodles lead her down the sandy sidewalk. They knew the way by heart. Even though she’d grown up here, Savanna was still acclimating to her little beach town after spending over a decade in Chicago. At the age of thirty, it was strange to think about her old life, due west across the lake. Her twelfth-floor apartment, her job as art authenticator for a prestigious gallery, and her fiancé Rob had been replaced with a small pink room at her sister’s house in Carson, an art teacher job at an elementary school, and her Boston terrier Fonzie as her most constant companion.

  It wasn’t that Savanna missed her old life. It was more about the whiplash feeling from so many changes in such a short time. She knew she was lucky to fall into the teaching position just as the schoolyear was starting. And wow, had she ever missed her sisters.

  The three girls had been inseparable growing up. As the middle sister, with Skylar two years older and Sydney two years younger, Savanna had fully embraced returning to her family. It was kind of a bonus that Syd was totally fine with giving her a place to stay while she figured things out. The time she’d spent lately hanging out with her sisters made Savanna acutely aware of all she’d missed over the last several years.

  As they approached Caroline Carson’s house, Duke pranced in circles around Princess. Savanna bent to untangle the leashes. The poodles were primped and fluffed and smelled like a flower shop, courtesy of Sydney’s grooming salon, Fancy Tails and Treats. Along with the poodles, Savanna was delivering a little paper sack of gourmet dog biscuits Sydney had made herself. After Savanna’s very first day at Carson Elementary School, she’d stopped by the salon to bring her sister a coffee and had ended up volunteering to return the poodles to Caroline.

  The Shepherd sisters had grown up thinking Caroline was their grandmother. Even after they were old enough to understand that the families were just close friends, Savanna remembered spending Sunday afternoons and long summer days on Caroline’s wraparound porch. Spotting the pillars of the wide front entrance, Savanna could almost smell the lemonade and sunscreen from her youth. The Carson mansion was gorgeous and stately, the rear of the house overlooking the lake and its rolling dunes.

  Princess and Duke were having trouble containing their exuberance as Savanna tried to sidestep them on the wide stairway to the porch. She hadn’t seen Caroline in almost five years. She’d wanted to come home for the funeral when Mr. Carson had passed last year, but she hadn’t been able to get away from work. She was equally excited and nervous to see Caroline again, and she also couldn’t wait to see what had changed in the Carson art collection.

  The beautiful pieces on the walls of this house had inspired Savanna to go into art authentication. She’d always enjoyed doodling and painting, but she’d learned about the Masters program while she was an undergraduate in college, minoring in early education but majoring in studio art to earn her BFA.

  The poodles scrambled wildly onto the porch, pulling Savanna smack into a tree. Well, not a tree, but a tall stranger who’d just stepped out the front door. Savanna looked up to find herself staring into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. She watched them crinkle at the corners, making her suddenly aware she was standing there, gawking, mute. He had a shock of unruly black hair, cut close but longer on top, and a few faint freckles across his cheeks.

  “Hello.” His voice was deep and quiet. He placed one large hand lightly on her upper arm, steadying her as she stepped back.

  After tripping over a leash, Savanna regained her balance. She looked down and found the poodles had taken the opportunity to weave themselves in and around both hers and the stranger’s ankles.

  She laughed, trying to extricate herself. “Here.” She finally scooped up Duke. “Would you mind?” She handed the poodle to the man and he took it, smiling at her and making her more flustered. What was she doing? How did she know this man would just hold a random dog? Too late now, she thought, unclipping Duke’s leash and unwrapping it from their legs while Princess sprung into the air, pawing at Duke.

  “Oh, gosh,” Savanna murmured, capturing a squirming Princess and glancing up at the man again. “I’m so sorry!”

  “Don’t be.” He laughed. “I love these two.”

  She frowned at him without meaning to. She thought she knew everyone in town; who was this man claiming to know Caroline’s poodles? And why was his smile making her all warm and stupid inside?

  “I’m Aidan. And you are …not Sydney.”

  Savanna shook her head, disconcerted. How did he know Sydney? “I’m not. I’m Savanna. Shepherd.”

  Understanding dawned on him. “Aha! A third Shepherd sister!”

  “Yes. How do you know my sisters?”

  “We take our dog to Fancy Tails. And I’ve crossed paths with your sister picking up Caroline’s poodles before. And your other sister Skylar is my attorney. Not that I need a lawyer,” he interrupted himself. “Just, y’know, for things that come up. Nothing bad. Financial stuff. She’s great. They’re both great,” he finished awkwardly.

  Savanna heard one thing in Aidan’s explanation, and it had nothing to do with him needing Skylar’s services—we. As in, “We” take our dog to Fancy Tails.

  This ridiculously cute man was taken. Of course. How could he not be?

  He said, “Your sisters must be happy to have you back.”

  “I’m thrilled to be home. I haven’t seen Caroline yet, so I offered to deliver these two.” She gestured at the little dogs, now back on their leashes.

  He nodded, stepping aside and
holding the door open for her. “It was nice meeting you.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a pleasant little zing through her.

  Aidan who? But Savanna’s mother had raised her with good manners. There was no polite way she could ask him to define who he was to Caroline. “Nice meeting you too, Aidan.” She took his offered hand, surprised at how warm his was. She let go, noting that he held on just a beat longer.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around.” He turned and headed down the front steps.

  Savanna stood in the doorway and watched his retreat. Okay, she’d have to sneak details out of Caroline. She was pretty sure he was married, but now she mentally kicked herself for not noticing if he wore a ring. And, on the heels of that, she kicked herself again for even wondering. After everything Rob had put her through, she’d sworn she was done with men—for a good while, anyway.

  Savanna reached outside and rang the doorbell before closing the door and unclipping the poodles. She didn’t want to just walk in and startle an old woman. “Hello? Caroline?”

  “Hello, dear. In here,” the familiar voice called.

  Savanna peeked into each room as she made her way to the back of the enormous house, knowing she’d find Caroline in the parlor. The best room in the mansion, it spanned the entire west wing and had more windows than Sydney’s whole house. Sunset on Lake Michigan was breathtaking, just as Savanna remembered it. She stood for a moment in the doorway, basking in the orange and pink light spilling over Caroline’s wingback chair. If she lived here, she’d never want to leave this room.

  Caroline rose, reaching for her cane as she spoke. “Now, Sydney, you must take this. You do such good work on my babies.” She turned toward Savanna with cash in hand, and then her face lit up.

  “Not Sydney,” Savanna said for the second time today, smiling and wrapping Caroline in a warm hug.

  “Oh, my! I’d heard whispers… I’m so glad to see you, Savanna!”

  Caroline carried her age well. She had to have been ninety. She was still tall, though not quite as tall as she’d been when Savanna was a child. There was a regal air about her, in her mannerisms, her gait, the way she spoke. Savanna spied The New York Times on the table beside Caroline’s chair; she was obviously as sharp as ever.

  “I’ve missed you so much!” Savanna said, giving her one extra little squeeze before letting go. “You look exactly the same. How can that be?”

  The older woman chuckled. “You always were a good fibber.” She held Savanna at arm’s length and looked her up and down. “Lovely, my dear. You look wonderful. It seems leaving the city and that idiot man has been just what you needed.”

  Savanna’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Sydney told you?”

  “Skylar told me. She’d like to find him and give him a piece of her mind, you know.”

  Savanna laughed. “Oh, no.” She shook her head. Rob wouldn’t know what hit him. “Yeah, my sisters weren’t too happy when he broke off the engagement. Well, that’s not true. I think they actually are happy it’s over. They never liked him. They weren’t great at hiding it. But I’m okay.” She gave Caroline’s arm a little pat. “I promise.”

  “Of course you are. I think”—she leaned in, curling one arm through the crook of Savanna’s elbow—“he did you a favor. You belong here, with your sisters. I’m glad you’re home. Now, how about a refresher? We’ve acquired some exquisite work since I last saw you. Let me show you, and you can tell me what you know from your fine art degree. And I want to hear all about Chicago.”

  Caroline kept her arm linked through Savanna’s and they began in the library, Princess and Duke following closely. Dark cherry wood was everywhere Savanna looked, and stacks of books reached far over her head. An imperial staircase led up both sides of the room to a catwalk stretching across it. The whole presentation was breathtaking, even to Savanna, who’d grown up devouring the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys collections on these shelves. The railing along the catwalk above gleamed, and just below it, Savanna was stunned to see an actual Minkov hung on the wall. She gasped.

  Caroline followed her gaze up to the painting.

  “Is that a Sergei Minkov?” Savanna already knew the answer, but she had to ask. She’d only ever seen his work in books.

  “It is. Everett fell in love instantly, the same as you. He had to have it.” She chuckled and lowered her voice in a poor imitation of her late husband. “‘I don’t care what it costs, Caroline. That piece belongs in our library.’”

  “Wow,” Savanna breathed. “I’ve never actually seen one in person. May I take a closer look?”

  “Of course.”

  Savanna left Caroline to rest a moment at a reading table, a few books scattered across the top. She moved as close as she could to the painting, an imposing size even in the huge library. It was exquisite. Most Minkovs were valued in the hundreds of thousands or higher, and that wasn’t taking into consideration the year, the period, the size, or the individual piece. Even for collectors such as Everett and Caroline, even in a town known for its long history of an esteemed art community, this was an incredible acquisition. She doubted if any of her peers in Chicago had ever seen a real Minkov in person.

  “There’s another, in the dining room,” Caroline said. “Come, I’ll show you.”

  Savanna was seriously impressed. Another? She listened as they passed through the living room and Caroline pointed out two paintings Savanna recognized, one a Monet and the other by an early nineteenth-century artist, Francois Laurant. The Minkov in the dining room was smaller than the painting in the library, but no less amazing.

  “I hope these are insured, Caroline,” Savanna murmured. “I’m not sure you realize what you have here.”

  Caroline gave Savanna’s arm a little squeeze. “Absolutely, don’t worry. Your sister handles all of that for me—insurance, copies of paperwork, everything. Everett was always so smart about finances and legal things, and Skylar has been a big help in recent years.”

  They circled around back toward the parlor, passing the grand staircase, and Savanna noticed three faded rectangular outlines, bare spots, on the wall on the way up the stairs. “What was there?”

  “Ah! That was a…Matisse, I believe, and a Rothman, and an early Laurant, I think—a painting of the Roman canals. I have trouble keeping them all straight. There are too many.” She glanced at Savanna. “I’ve begun some cleaning since losing Everett. We found a new home for the Rothman that was there and moved the other two for now while the stairway gets redone. My neighbor Maggie has her husband helping with construction.” She gestured in the direction of the house next door.

  Back in the parlor, Savanna shook her head. “You’re busier now than when I left ten years ago.” She smiled at Caroline. “Why are you renovating? Your house is gorgeous.”

  Caroline clapped her hands suddenly, excited. “Oh my, I just realized. You don’t even know, do you? You have to come. We’re planning a grand party here for my ninetieth birthday next month!”

  Savanna’s face lit up. “Really? I came home just in time then, didn’t I?”

  Caroline leaned forward in her chair. “Savanna. I wonder if you might consider doing me a favor? At least think about it.”

  “Anything.”

  “A mural. Can I commission you to paint me a mural? That wall.” She nodded toward the north end of the room. “Everett and I always felt it should have a seascape. After all the years here, it almost seems I can see it. It would complement our view.” She glanced out at Lake Michigan. “And you had the talent—I remember your artwork. Would you do it?”

  Savanna was taken aback. She hadn’t painted—not seriously—in years. She’d messed around a little, but Rob had made her feel as if it were a waste of time, and she’d stopped making the time to do it. She’d dabbled a little since coming back to Carson, but…the idea of a mural was both exciting and daunting. “Caroline, I’m flattered. But yo
u haven’t seen my work in ten years. I’m not sure I can meet your expectations. Why not just hire it out?”

  “Because I want you to do it.”

  Savanna wasn’t sure what to say. The quiet, firm demeanor of the woman sitting across from her was exactly what had made Caroline Carson such a shrewd businesswoman over the course of her life. Savanna wasn’t about to tell her no. “How about if I bring my portfolio for you to look at? I have some pieces from school, and one I started recently when I came home. Then you can tell me if you’re still sure.”

  “Perfect,” Caroline agreed.

  Savanna was walking into the grooming salon before she realized she’d forgotten to ask about that handsome stranger on Caroline’s porch. Well, she’d see the woman tomorrow. If she was even still curious, she told herself. She handed Sydney two crisp hundred-dollar bills and flounced down onto the comfy aqua couch in the little seating area for customers.

  The shop was split into two sides. The smaller nook had only a desk, a laptop, and a file cabinet that held each customers’ specifics: dog’s name, breed, color, preferred services, style of grooming, allergies, and medical issues. The doorway behind the desk led to a large, soundproofed horseshoe with six holding areas, the bathing and grooming facilities in the center.

  The larger opposite end of the shop, through a wide, daisy-decorated archway, housed a long glass display case, filled with an assortment of gourmet pet treats. At first glance, they looked like delicious concoctions for people because they were all so pretty and unique. A second, smaller shelving unit displayed animal-themed collars, bows, leashes, sweaters, booties, and a small selection of cruelty-free hygiene and grooming products that smelled amazing. The front corner of the shop was dedicated to making her patrons feel at home while they shopped or waited for a quick trim: an overstuffed couch and chair, a red-and-chrome retro round table with vintage matching chairs, a mini-fridge with complimentary drinks, and a huge basket of dog toys.

  Fancy Tails and Treats sat at the end of Main Street, with Sydney’s house in the back. She’d bought the place specifically so Harlan could turn the defunct beauty salon in the front into Fancy Tails. Savanna loved that she was already just as comfortable in the shop, a regular hangout spot for her and her sisters, as she was in the guest bedroom at Sydney’s.

 

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