She took a deep breath. “Oh, boy. Let me think. What do you know?”
“A little of everything.”
“Everything? Really? Okay.” Savanna tapped her knee, wanting to choose well. “Do you know anything from musicals? Like…Once? Or Phantom of the Opera?”
Aidan laughed. “That’s a pretty wide range, Phantom to Once. Yes, I think I do.” Head down, he moved his fingers over the keyboard, making a couple of false starts; he scowled and shook out his hands. “Hold on, let me try again.”
To her delight, the strains of her favorite tune from Once rose from the piano. She smiled, and her cheeks flushed. He glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to the keys.
“I’m a little rusty,” he murmured, concentrating.
“I love it,” Savanna said softly, fully aware of Aidan’s shoulder lightly brushing against hers as the crisp, sweet notes of “Falling Slowly” flowed from his fingertips into the air.
Chapter Fifteen
As the Fall Fun Fest wound down, Savanna had stalled, giving Nolan a little longer in the bounce house while she filled Aidan in on what he’d missed this past week. She covered Lauren cancelling all deliveries from Happy Family, and then the delivery lady bringing get-well flowers and candy; Maggie Lyle’s strange, silent scowl at Savanna from the easement that day; Sydney learning that the grocer didn’t even carry the type of fancy wine bottle the claret had come from; and even the problem she’d discovered in Caroline’s smaller Minkov, hanging in the dining room.
Aidan was nodding, listening, as he and Savanna helped carry folding chairs to the supply room in the ballroom. “How is all of that connected?” he asked her.
“I have no idea. Maybe it isn’t.” She sighed. “Maybe none of it means anything. I just don’t want her to get hurt again. I feel like there’s something I’m not seeing.”
“Well, this isn’t only up to you. Skylar’s friend Jordan is looking into it too. He called me the other day with a few questions after he’d talked to you.”
“That’s good. Maybe he can make some sense of things.”
“When will you be seeing her next?”
“Monday or Tuesday, maybe both. Her party is so close, and I know she wants the mural finished. I’m going to try to wrap it up this week.”
“Maybe I’ll run into you. I have to see Caroline this week,” he said.
They’d parted ways unceremoniously, Savanna laden with Nolan and his collection of balloons, prizes, and a double-layer raspberry torte he’d won in the cakewalk, and Aidan having been captured by Tricia Williams, Mollie’s first grade teacher. He met Savanna’s eyes over Tricia’s head as Savanna gave him a quick wave goodbye from the doorway.
When Savanna woke the next morning in the blanket fort she and Sydney and Nolan had made in Syd’s living room, the Glen Hansard song from Once was still playing in her head. She’d loved “Falling Slowly” from the first time she’d heard it, but she would never hear it the same way again after last night. She closed her eyes, reliving the music, sitting with Aidan on the little piano bench and remembering the way he’d looked at her in the opening notes when he’d started to play. Had he chosen that song on purpose? Savanna knew she wouldn’t be able to get it out of her head all day.
She stretched out flat. Sydney had set up surprisingly comfy memory foam mattresses for the three of them, and Savanna had slept like a rock. Maybe she could fall back asleep. Her phone buzzed somewhere in the blankets near her feet. She kicked at it, turning on her side and resting a hand ever so lightly on Nolan’s warm little leg; he was snuggled up against her.
When Savanna opened her eyes again, the sun was much brighter through the blankets. She must have fallen back asleep. Now, Nolan was sprawled between her and Syd, arms and legs flung out to his sides. He was the cutest little boy Savanna had ever seen. It was fact, she’d feel that way even if he wasn’t her nephew.
Savanna very carefully moved Nolan’s foot off her hip and half slid, half crawled out of the fort as quietly as she could. She crept in stocking feet to the kitchen. Thank goodness Syd remembered to set the coffee maker timer. Savanna poured herself a steaming cup of hazelnut coffee, added two heaping spoons of sugar, and headed to the sun room.
Her current painting sat neglected on the easel, waiting for her. She’d been so busy between work, the mural, and scrambling trying to figure out who might be trying to hurt Caroline she hadn’t gone back to this piece in over a week. There were two others she’d started when she’d first come home, propped against the wall, but the one on the easel was more abstract than her usual style. Caroline’s Minkov was weighing on her mind—all of the Carson house artwork was, and she could see the influence of it now as she doled out the paints onto her palette, picking up her brush. As she worked, she delved into her current piece, with its deep, rich tones, broad strokes, and a paring down of her usual fine detail. She recalled the same thing happening to her when she was sixteen or seventeen, absorbing the artwork that even then had been abundant at Caroline’s house, and then returning to her paintings. All of her time spent in the Carson house growing up had helped shape her love of fine art.
Savanna perched on the stool, working, her mind wandering. She must figure out what was happening in Caroline’s house. There was something she was missing—she just knew it.
“Auntie Vanna, breakfast!” Nolan spoke from the doorway behind Savanna, jolting her from her thoughts.
“So, what’s Skylar making tonight?” Sydney asked her once they were seated at the kitchen table.
Breakfast was bacon, scrambled eggs, and cinnamon rolls. Nolan dug in, making a face as he pushed the eggs to one side of his plate and concentrated on the swirled, sticky cinnamon roll.
Savanna shrugged. “I haven’t talked to her. She was getting all fancy last night when I went over to pick up Nolan. How’s everything going with Brad?” She couldn’t keep the childish song-sing out of her voice as she asked Syd about her boyfriend.
“Brad is fabulous.” Sydney grinned. “We had a lot of fun last night while you were with Dr. Gallager.” Syd’s voice carried the same inflection Savanna’s had, and she smirked at her.
“How wonderful,” Savanna said, sipping her second cup of coffee.
“Was he teaching you to play piano? It looked pretty intense over there.”
“No, he was not teaching me to play piano.” She glared at her little sister. “We were just talking. He’s a nice guy.”
“Definitely. Definitely.” She imitated Savanna, picking up her coffee and sipping demurely. “It’s so nice,” Syd said, “when handsome doctors make googly eyes at you, and it’s especially nice when they play you sappy love songs.”
“There was no googly anything, Sydney! We were just talking. Stop it.”
Syd was uncharacteristically quiet. She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay. Sorry,” she said sincerely.
It was a perk of sisterhood, even after years apart, knowing when it was okay to tease and when to stop. Savanna was grateful Sydney knew where the line was. The whole topic of Aidan unsettled her.
“Hey,” Syd spoke up, “why don’t I run Nolan home after breakfast and let you flex your creative muscles? You’ve got a bunch of pieces back there that are half finished.”
“I’d love that. But I don’t know if I’m willing to let this monkey leave.” She scooped up Nolan, a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth, and kissed him on each temple. He giggled and dropped the bacon, and Fonzie was instantly under Savanna’s chair, cleaning up.
Syd stood and started clearing dishes, setting Savanna’s phone on the table in front of her. “Here, you might want to check this. Someone’s trying pretty hard to reach you. I found it cleaning up our blanket fort.”
Savanna glanced up at Syd, detecting a strange tone to her voice. She tapped the screen, seeing she’d missed a call and some text messages. She swiped to un
lock the phone, and sucked in her breath.
Missed call from Rob Havemeyer.
Voicemail from Rob Havemeyer.
She touched the envelope icon flashing at the top of the screen and saw her ex-fiancé had also texted her. What in the world? She hadn’t heard a single word from him since August ninth when she’d left Chicago.
Her eyes rose to meet Sydney’s.
Her sister looked irritated, angry, annoyed…nothing good. “What does he want?”
“I don’t have a clue.” She scanned the text message from him.
Savanna, please call me when you get a chance today.
“Ugh!” She turned the phone toward Sydney. “What the heck does he even want?”
Syd raised one eyebrow and looked at her. “You haven’t reached out to him at all?”
“No! Why would I? He was a jerk. He had to go find himself…which apparently you can’t do unless you travel around Europe for weeks on end, and make sure to dump your girlfriend before you leave.”
“Fiancé,” Sydney corrected.
Savanna gave her a sharp look.
Syd shrugged. “Well? You were more than a girlfriend. I just don’t want you listening to some stupid voicemail from your stupid ex-fiancé with rose-colored glasses on, romanticizing what you had. What if he wants you back?”
“No.” She cringed at the thought. “Gosh, no. That isn’t it. Rob is way too self-involved to have second thoughts.”
“And even if he did…” Sydney prompted, looking worriedly at her older sister.
Savanna rolled her eyes. “Even if he did want me back, there’s no way that’s happening. Pigs will fly first. Fonzie will suddenly decide he hates bacon. Nolan will give up eating sweets.”
That got the little boy’s attention; he slapped both palms to his temples, staring at her. “What, Auntie Vanna? Why?” He looked pained.
They cracked up.
“So dramatic, buddy.” Savanna grinned at him. “Don’t worry, your sweet tooth is here to stay. You got it from your mom…from all three of us!”
He popped another piece of cinnamon roll in his mouth, looking relieved.
“Okay, so you’ll stand firm when you call him back.” Sydney nodded at Savanna.
“Of course.” Savanna looked at her phone. “But later,” she finally said after a long pause. “I’m not dealing with this now.”
“I get that. If you want me there for moral support when you do listen to the message, let me know.”
“I will. I’m not quite ready to ruin my mood by hearing Rob Havemeyer’s voice. Later.”
“Hey,” Sydney said as Nolan hopped down from his chair and headed toward the living room, followed by Fonzie, “What did you decide to do about that painting at Caroline’s? Was it just that one that you think was a fake?”
“I haven’t really decided anything.” Savanna sighed. She found the photos she’d taken in her phone and scrolled to the Minkov, zooming in again on the suspicious area. It was so hard to tell on a screen; it was even hard to tell in person with the naked eye. She zoomed out and scrolled through the others she’d snapped photos of, Syd looking over her shoulder: three Rothmans, two Laurants, a Matisse, a Monet, and the two Minkov paintings.
“You don’t think Mr. Carson knew he was displaying a knock-off, do you? Maybe he was trying to cut corners, save money?”
Savanna looked at her, thinking. “I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “But if he was, Caroline’s going to be in for a rude awakening. That smaller Minkov, if it’s genuine, is worth close to seven figures. I really need to get a look at the authentication certificates and go from there. But I can’t upset Caroline; she’s been through so much lately. I can’t put a damper on her birthday preparations.”
“What about the other pieces? Did they all look okay to you?”
Savanna shook her head. “It’s impossible to know for sure. I don’t know them as well as I do Sergei Minkov’s work. I have to do some research.”
Syd began clearing the dishes. “Well, let me know if I can help at all.”
Harlan was working in the large pole barn he called a garage when Savanna arrived that afternoon for dinner. He collected and restored old vintage motorcycles in his spare time, and was adjusting something underneath a handsome gold-and-black Triumph as she waved to him.
Savanna followed the delicious scent of something cooking around to the rear of the house, finding Travis at the grill on the two-tiered patio and Skylar kicked back in a deck chair with her feet propped up while he worked.
Savanna gently nudged the big orange tabby, Pumpkin, out of his chair, and sat opposite her sister. “Mmm. Steak?”
“Steak, pepperoncini pasta salad, and the last of Dad’s asparagus from the garden,” Skylar replied.
“Sounds amazing. I’m starving!”
Travis stabbed one of the steaks, turning it. “Another few minutes, and we should be good. I’m gonna go grab that seasoning,” he said, handing the spatula to Skylar. “Can I get you anything?” He addressed them both.
“Oh, I’d love some more iced tea, Trav, thank you. Savanna?”
“Yes, that would be great, same for me please.”
Skylar handed Savanna the spatula as her husband headed into the house.
“What am I supposed to do with this?”
Skylar shrugged. “Try to not burn the steaks? He should know I can’t be trusted.” She laughed.
Savanna stood and moved to the grill. She was better at barbecue than she was at actual cooking in the kitchen; she’d learned from Harlan, and he was the master. “Oh,” she said, “I brought the torte your son won last night in the cakewalk. I should have told you that you didn’t need to bring dessert.”
“Mom made cookies with Nolan earlier, so we’ll have a couple of choices. I don’t think anyone’s going to complain. Hey. I meant to ask you, when are you seeing Caroline next? I was thinking I might check in with her and see if she’d like me to secure any of her paperwork from the paintings she’s sold so far.”
“I’ll be there Tuesday after school.” Savanna lifted one corner of a steak, peeking underneath before turning it. “I think that’s a good idea. I need to talk to her about a couple of the pieces. Did Sydney tell you what I found the other day, when we were over there making punch?”
“Yes! That’s crazy, the idea that Caroline could have a forged piece of art in her collection! Do you really think that painting is a fake?”
“I’m honestly not sure now. Ideally, I’d need some of the diagnostic equipment I used in Chicago. There’s nowhere around here that I could even take it, except for Lansing or Detroit. Even Lansing is too far to do it without giving Caroline more to worry about. I’d have to find the right time.”
“I can pull my copies of the provenances, if that might help,” Skylar said. “At least to compare with the originals she has, maybe. I think I can wrap things up at work by around four thirty Tuesday. Stop and pick me up on your way.”
Travis reappeared, setting a glass of iced tea on the table by Skylar and handing Savanna hers. He was shaking his head, smiling. “Charlotte has Nolan sitting on the kitchen counter icing cookies. There’s at least an inch of frosting on them, and chocolate chips piled on top of that.”
Skylar laughed. “So it’s a good thing we have the torte he won.”
Savanna handed him the spatula. “I saved them from your wife.”
“Good call, thanks.” Travis pulled the seasoning from his shirt pocket and liberally peppered the meat on the grill.
“So Tuesday? And you’ll bring copies of her certificates?” Savanna asked.
“Absolutely,” Skylar replied.
Savanna finally felt some weight lift off her shoulders. She’d have answers soon, one way or another.
She intended to head home right after dinner; she had a handful of projec
ts to finish grading, and Rob’s voicemail was weighing on her mind. But once full of steak and pasta, with a piece of untouched raspberry torte on a plate in front of her, Savanna was just too comfortable to move. Plus, she loved listening to the banter between Skylar and her husband.
Charlotte took control after the dishes were cleared and the dishwasher was running, setting their old Michigan Rummy game in the center of the table. They played with plastic chips, and Nolan delighted in having the job of depositing each player’s chips into the right pot. Whenever anyone won the kitty, Nolan meowed loudly as he emptied out that compartment for the winning player.
Charlotte won. She always won, probably because she had the best poker face.
It was after ten by the time Savanna and Sydney pulled into their own driveway.
Syd stopped her as they separated at the end of the hall to go their separate bedrooms. “Are you going to check his voicemail?”
Savanna groaned. “Yeah. I have to. There’s no way I can sleep if I don’t.”
“Do you want moral support?”
“Yes,” she said, following Sydney into her bedroom.
Syd’s room reflected her personality, done in muted shades of aqua and orange. Savanna hopped onto the high, queen-sized bed, and Syd joined her, pulling the sheer, billowy curtains closed around the four poster sides once Fonzie had jumped up, settling against Savanna’s hip.
Savanna looked up, smiling at the tiny white fairy lights. “A grown-up blanket fort.”
“Exactly.” Syd tapped the phone lying between them on the bed. “Do it.”
Savanna sighed. “Okay.” She dialed into her voicemail and put it on speaker. Hearing Rob’s voice after all this time was jarring.
“Savanna, hi, I uh, I just wanted to call and say I hope you’re okay. I’m back, and…”
a pause, an audible sigh, “…and I don’t know, it feels strange here without you. Anyway. I found a couple of things of yours—a book, your winter coat, a necklace. Stuff you need. I’m going to be in Lansing next week and thought I’d find you and drop them off. Give me a call.”
Out of the Picture Page 15
