This piece, the supposed Storm in Sochi, lacked that sense of movement, and through her Firefly, the brushstrokes were a poor imitation of Sergei Minkov’s broken brushwork technique. When she pulled up the piece online and compared it side by side in a new browser window with Caroline’s painting, the two looked identical. But, in person and under microscope, they were not.
Savanna knew it wasn’t enough. Just because Minkov had employed a specific brush stroke style in his later works didn’t quantitatively mean that he’d started out that way. This piece was from 1869; the majority of Minkov’s work dated between 1882 and 1903.
Savanna needed two things now. She had to get the copy of the provenance paperwork from Skylar. Tomorrow, if not sooner; she needed to research just exactly where and with whom this painting, or the actual painting, had been. And the only way to prove this painting was a forgery was by radiograph. For that, Savanna would have to take it offsite.
And to do that, she’d have to come clean with Caroline about what she’d done.
Savanna’s phone was dinging like crazy over on the buffet. She quickly packed up her microscope and laptop. She hung the Minkov back in its spot, both vindicated and disappointed at her discovery. Now she couldn’t help but wonder about the larger Minkov hanging in Caroline’s library, but that would have to be a project for another day.
She glanced at her phone screen as she went back through the butler’s pantry and kitchen, toward the parlor:
Are you almost done?
I’m supposed to meet Brad in 10 minutes.
Savvy, hurry up, she has to use the bathroom!
OMG I steered her away from the dining room but I have to leave SOON.
Dude.
Oh poor Syd, Savanna thought, rushing into the parlor to find Sydney sitting on the floor in front of Caroline, holding her hand, palm up. The dinner dishes were gone, the folding table stored against the wall, and Sydney was telling Caroline something about a past life.
“I am so sorry.” Savanna put a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “I got a call. I had no idea how long I’d be!”
Sydney gave her a look—the look. The sister look, the one Savanna had used on Sydney just last week when she’d asked Savanna to mind the shop for a minute while she ran across the street to the yoga studio to change the schedule, and hadn’t returned for over an hour.
Savanna pulled the corners of her mouth down in remorse, mouthing I’m sorry to Syd as she stood at Caroline’s side.
“Well.” Sydney stood. “Caroline, we can pick this up when I come to get Princess and Duke this weekend; your house isn’t the only thing getting spruced up for your birthday. And tonight, I have a very sweet firefighter waiting for me on the beach.”
Caroline clapped her hands together. “Go, dear girl! Never keep the good ones waiting—he is a good one, isn’t he?”
“He’s a very good one.” She leaned down and kissed Caroline’s cheek. “Maybe I’ll make him my plus-one at your party so you can meet him.”
“I would love that,” she said. “Now scoot.”
Sydney pulled Savanna by the sleeve toward the hallway as she left, whispering, “I’m waking you up later so you can tell me what you found!”
Savanna moved to her scaffolding, packing up paints and brushes for the night. She dreaded talking to Caroline about the painting, but she had to. Once she’d corralled her supplies in the large, multi-pocketed canvas bag, Savanna sat down opposite Caroline.
“You must be tired,” Caroline said. “Go get some rest. I’m starting to feel guilty keeping you here.”
“I love visiting with you. Don’t feel guilty; I’m going soon. But…I have to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
“You and Mr. Carson put so much of your efforts and heart into your art collection. You have some incredible pieces here. You know I worked as an art authenticator in Chicago. It was my job to know characteristics of fine art, and the artists who created those works. So, sometimes unfortunately, even without meaning to, I don’t always see works of art in the way others do. Sometimes a piece speaks to me differently, especially if it’s a work by an artist I know well.”
“Of course. That makes sense.”
“I’d like to take your small Minkov to Lansing to authenticate it,” she blurted. She cringed inwardly, wishing she knew a better way to approach this.
Caroline tilted her head, looking at her curiously. “Are you doubting that piece?”
Savanna leaned forward. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. “I know Minkov. And that piece. And there is just something…off with it, Caroline.” She didn’t want to rat herself out just yet; Caroline didn’t need to know she’d set up a mini authentication station in her dining room.
“Savanna, you know I trust you implicitly. If you think it’s necessary to take a look at that Minkov, then absolutely, do it.”
Her words warmed Savanna. This was why she’d thought Caroline was actually her grandmother until she was eight, and Skylar had to correct the notion: the woman treated Savanna and sisters as if they were family. She’d hoped she could convince Caroline to trust her with such a potentially valuable piece of art, but she shouldn’t have worried.
“Okay.” Savanna said. “There’s one other thing. Has your family checked on your important papers after the break-in? You’d said you have the originals of the provenances for your collection here, in Mr. Carson’s study, I think. Is your paperwork still intact here? Is anything missing?”
Caroline shook her head. “No. Fortunately, Mr. Carson was a shrewd businessman and, if I might say so, a little over-zealous in protecting his assets. Those provenances are all fine, along with our other important papers, in a safe built into his desk.” She smiled. “He never left a thing up to chance. Whomever broke into my house had quite a tantrum in our offices, but that hulking old cherrywood desk of his upstairs has barely a scratch.”
Savanna let out a sigh of relief. “Amazing,” she breathed. “He was smart, wasn’t he? I may want to see the certificate for the Minkov at some point, or perhaps I should look at all of them, but for now, Skylar has your copies and that’s good enough for my research.”
“I appreciate you looking into this for me, Savanna.”
“Of course. Don’t tell anyone where those papers are kept. Not a soul, please. And try not to worry. It’s always possible I’m wrong.”
Caroline sat back in her chair and picked up her book. “I dare say, I doubt you are often wrong. We shall see. I’m not worried, no matter what you find. You shouldn’t worry either. But could you do me one small favor before you go?”
“Anything,” Savanna echoed her from moments earlier. She should have known it would take more than the chance of a forged painting to ruffle Caroline Carson.
“I’d love a cup of lemon tea, if you don’t mind.”
Savanna made the tea, disposing of the soup and bread Caroline hadn’t eaten and loading the dishes in the dishwasher. She moved through the house collecting her things; she hadn’t meant to, but she’d gotten a little scattered, what with her secretive antics in the dining room. She gathered her backpack, laptop, bag of brushes to clean, and leaned down to hug Caroline goodbye. She picked up her keys from the entryway table and whistled for Fonzie once she’d made it to the front door.
Back at Sydney’s less than ten minutes later, Savanna flounced onto the plush, comfy couch in the living room, Fonzie turning in three circles before snuggling up next to her. She picked up the remote for the television, then thought better of it and tapped the screen on her phone. She’d promised to call Aidan if she learned anything new tonight at Caroline’s house.
It was 8:58 p.m. He was probably putting Mollie to bed. She hated to bother him, but he had taken note the last time she was supposed to call and didn’t…so she called.
Aidan picked up on the first ring.
Savanna smiled into the phone and began.
Chapter Twenty
Friday morning, barely a minute past eight, Savanna typed in the code to Caroline’s front door and pushed it open, poking her head in. “Caroline?” She’d walked right in plenty of times before, but never this early.
Savanna had discovered as she was leaving for work this morning that she didn’t have her purse. She’d gone back and checked her bedroom, then retraced her steps to the living room, where she’d sat last night and talked to Aidan until past her bedtime. Then she’d checked her car.
And then she’d remembered: when she’d changed out of her polka dot dress at Caroline’s yesterday, she’d been so focused on checking the Minkov that she’d piled her clothing and purse on the bathroom countertop to retrieve later. And had left them there.
She’d called Lauren on the way over to Caroline’s. Lauren had reassured her that it was fine to stop by and grab her purse, as Caroline was always an early riser.
Now, calling through the open door and hearing nothing from inside the house, Savanna quietly entered. Maybe Caroline was still sleeping, and she could be in and out without disturbing her.
Princess and Duke raced up to her, prancing and whining.
“Well, hello guys.” Savanna bent to pet them. “Do you need to go out?” She held the front door open, but they stayed where they were, right by her side, wiggling and antsy. “Okay.” Savanna shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She went through the living room and turned the corner where Caroline’s half bath was, and sure enough, found her black-and-white dress and red sweater folded neatly on top of her purse, on the bathroom counter. She tucked the clothing under one arm and slung her purse over a shoulder, heading back out toward the foyer, and nearly tripped over the poodles.
Savanna crouched down, giving them equal scratch-behind-the-ears attention. “Listen,” she whispered, “we’re trying not to wake your mom, okay?” She frowned, considering. Maybe they were hungry?
Savanna hung her purse over the front door handle so she wouldn’t forget it a second time and followed the poodles down the hallway toward the kitchen. Princess and Duke veered off into the parlor; Savanna skidded to halt on the polished wooden floors in her stocking feet, motioning to them. They were standing on the big round rug, staring at her. She knew Caroline was sleeping in the parlor until her walking boot came off tomorrow.
“Hey! Come on, guys, I’ll feed you,” Savanna told them in her loudest whisper, waiting.
Duke came over to her, prancing in a circle around her legs, then darting back into the parlor.
A sick feeling sprang up in Savanna’s stomach. Caroline should be up by now. Princess and Duke both ran over to her, pawing at her legs, and this time, she followed them into the parlor.
Caroline was in bed, against the far wall. Her temporary bedroom had two sets of four-panel room dividers decorated with cherry blossom branches, partitioning her sleeping area off from the rest of the parlor; her family had thought of everything. But she was quite visible in her bed, and she wasn’t asleep. She was murmuring something.
Savanna ran over to her. “Caroline? Caroline!” She took the woman’s hand in her own, patting it vigorously.
Caroline’s hand was limp in Savanna’s. She was groggy, her eyes barely open. She’s been drugged. It was Savanna’s first thought, and had nothing to do with the memory of Eleanor in this same room.
Savanna dialed 911, and when the operator’s voice came on the line, she shocked herself by bursting into tears. She held onto Caroline’s hand, squeezing it, and quickly gave details to the operator.
“I’m sending an ambulance right now, ma’am,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.
“Hurry!”
The dispatcher stayed on the line with her, and Savanna registered the woman giving her instructions on what to watch for and what to do should Caroline worsen. Savanna told herself she wouldn’t need them, because Caroline would be fine. She had to be.
“You’re going to be okay, Caroline, I promise.” Savanna squeezed her hand, putting the back of one hand against the woman’s forehead. No fever.
Outside, the sirens wailed. She shouted for the first responders to come in. There were four of them this time. Savanna stepped back out of the way and let them work. She found Lauren’s phone number and hit send with shaking fingers.
Lauren arrived within minutes, still wearing cupcake-print pajama pants, and put a call in to her father. Savanna hovered in the doorway with Lauren, both relieved and even more afraid once the team had Caroline loaded onto a gurney to take her to the hospital.
“What can I do?” Savanna called to Lauren as she followed them out the door. “Should I come? Should I call anyone else?”
“Thanks, Savanna. Could you let Dr. Gallager know she’s on her way in to the hospital? So he’ll watch for her? Oh, and I texted my sisters, but could you tell Jack?”
Savanna watched the ambulance scream down the quiet street. How much could one person endure? Sure, Caroline’s last ambulance ride had been only for a sprained ankle, but what in the world had happened to her just now? She’d been fine when Savanna had left her last night.
Drifting back into the house, Savanna called and got Aidan’s voicemail. “Aidan, this is Savanna. Caroline is on her way to the hospital. She’s— I don’t even know. She was semi-conscious this morning, I stopped by the house and found her. Oh, it’s, uh…” she glanced at the clock on Caroline’s stove. “It’s 8:25. I hope you can help her,” she finished, voice shaky.
Savanna hung up and looked around the kitchen in a daze. She spotted a plate on the counter, a piece of untouched toast in the center of it, and half of another with a few bites missing. A small, empty juice glass sat on the counter next to the plate, and a smaller, plastic medication cup next to that.
Savanna had run the dishwasher last night and left Caroline with tea, just before she was going to turn in. So she had gotten up this morning, early, as Lauren said. She’d come in here, picked at her breakfast, taken her morning medication, and then…what?
She went back through to the parlor and scrolled through her contacts in her phone to Jack’s number. Savanna heard the second ring in two places, the phone to her ear and the kitchen behind her. She turned and walked back to the kitchen. A phone rested on the island countertop, ringing. She held her phone in one hand, looking down at the ringing phone. The screen read incoming call Savanna Shepherd.
Savanna hung up. When had Jack been here? She picked up his phone and went back into the parlor. She stood between the two partition screens, frowning at Caroline’s temporary bedroom. On her bedside table was a lamp, a lipstick, her weekly medication box, a clock, and her book, the same book she’d been reading last night when Savanna had left her. Savanna bent and peered at the face of Caroline’s small analog clock; the little gold arm for the alarm clock time was set to 6:30. Caroline had fallen asleep reading last night and woken at her usual time this morning. She’d gone into the kitchen, where she’d eaten, although not very much, and had drunk her juice and took her pills. And then, for some reason, she’d gone back to bed. Which seemed very unlike Caroline Carson.
Shouting came from the front of the house. “Hello! Lauren! Anyone!”
Savanna moved through to the front door to find Maggie Lyle standing in the foyer, hands on her hips, long pink housecoat on, hair piled on top of her head in a disheveled bun.
“What happened? Where is Caroline?” she demanded.
Savanna shook her head. “They took her to the hospital.”
“Again? For what, this time? Was it her heart?”
Savanna looked sharply at Maggie. “What did you say?”
Maggie backed down. “Her heart. I just meant, I know that doctor’s been over here checking her heart.”
“How do you know that, Maggie?”
The o
lder woman stared straight back at Savanna. “Because we’re neighbors, that’s why. What are you doing here?”
She didn’t have time for this. “Oh, no.” She sucked her breath in. “School. I’ve got to go.” It was now 8:40, just minutes away from the first bell. She looked down and saw she was still holding two phones in her hand. And Princess and Duke were dancing around her legs.
She dropped the phones into her purse, scooped up her discarded clothing from yesterday, and held an arm out to Maggie as she moved to the front door, ushering the woman out.
“No,” Maggie said, stepping back, out of reach. “I’ll stay and take care of the dogs. I’ll lock up. I know the code.”
“No,” Savanna said firmly. “That’s okay. My sister is coming to pick them up,” she lied. Well, Sydney would, when she called her. And her next call would be to her dad, to change the lock code. The doors needed to stay locked, even if it meant nobody had the code but Caroline and Lauren. “Come on, I’ll fill you in as we walk.”
Maggie gave up, letting Savanna lead her out onto the front porch and lock the door.
“I came by early this morning and found Caroline not feeling well,” Savanna said as Maggie was standing, waiting for details. “I honestly don’t know what was wrong. But the ambulance got here really fast, and I called to tell her doctor she’s on the way to the hospital.”
Maggie sighed, seeming satisfied at that paltry explanation. “That poor woman. I just can’t imagine, being her age and still struggling to live on my own, in a big old house like this. I’d have thought one of her kids would take her in once Everett went.” Maggie made a tsking noise.
Nice, Savanna thought. Use Caroline’s second trip to the hospital in as many weeks as a platform for why she was too old and feeble to live alone anymore. “Maggie, last night, did you happen to see anyone coming or going here?” If anyone had, she was positive the woman would know. She was tuned in to the goings on here 24/7.
Out of the Picture Page 19
