Zoe rolled her eyes. “It’s real, Fredrick. A cashier’s check for fifty thousand dollars. You only taught me how to forge paintings, remember?” She handed him a pen. “Sign.”
He complied and she folded the papers and stuffed them into her purse. Why did I have to bring white socks? Every time I open this damn bag those things are like a beacon. Her hands shook. Halfway there. Relief washed over her and made her lightheaded.
“You’ve got your precious paperwork, Zoe. Now it’s time to fulfill the other part of our agreement.” He chucked her under the chin with his finger. “The best part.”
She might actually throw up. She backed away another step. “Fredrick, this obsession with me is ridiculous. You can have dozens of women with just the crook of a finger. Why bother with me?”
“‘Bother with you?’” His voice went up an octave and his eyes burned with contempt as well as lust. “Because, my dear, I didn’t spend all of my time and a good deal of money teaching you the intricacies of the fine art business just to have you say ‘thank you very much’ and leave to start your own gallery.” He grabbed her arms and shook her.
She could feel the anger vibrating through his body as he pressed against her. Her hands went icy. A faint ringing began in her ears.
“You don’t even see the irony, do you? You weren’t supposed to be smart, Zoe. You were supposed to be beautiful, and sexy, and grateful for my attentions.”
He leaned over her, so close her eyes crossed trying to focus on his face. She shook her head in an attempt to regain her balance.
“I knew as soon as I saw how talented an artist you were that we could make a great deal of money together. The copy I had you make of Judge Abernathy’s painting wasn’t a lesson to hone your skills, it was the first of many copies we could substitute for authentic works.” He scoffed at her, his grip tightening. “But your beauty is only exceeded by your naivety, Zoe. Such an honest worker you were. You never understood. And then one day you waltz into my office and gush all over me about another gallery. Your gallery. And your foolish plan to start an art colony on the Eastern Shore. He gave her another shake. “You stupid, ungrateful little bitch.”
“Fredrick, let go. You’re hurting me.” She struggled out of his grip and cracked her elbow on the bar. “Ow.” Pain shot up her arm. “Fredrick, I need to use the powder room.” She clapped her hand over her mouth and pretended to gag. She grabbed her purse and looked around wildly. “Where?”
He pointed, and she lurched down the short hall and half-fell into the restroom, shutting the door behind her.
Her hands trembled so badly she had difficulty dialing, even though she had only to tap a single number. It barely finished one ring.
“Zoe. Are you okay?”
She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she gasped. “I’m plugging the toilet now. Get ready.” She thought she might have to use it for real but swallowed the bile in her throat and stuffed three pairs of Jeff’s sweat socks, knotted into a ball, down the toilet. She flushed. The water swirled in the bowl and rose to the edge but didn’t overflow. She waited for the tank to fill and flushed again. Success! Water flooded the floor. She opened the door and gave a pitiful scream. “Fredrick! Help! The toilet is overflowing.” She stumbled out into the hall and stood back as he skidded to a halt through the water.
“What the hell! What did you do?”
Zoe shook her head, her eyes wide. She shrugged.
I’m the stupid bitch, remember?
As Fredrick grabbed towels from the rack to soak up the mess, Zoe saw Jeff dash across to the study. Seconds later, he left with the painting, giving her a wink on the way by.
Zoe walked slowly back to the living room, trailing her hand along the wall to steady herself. She made sure the sliding door was closed and that Jeff was nowhere to be seen outside. Clutching her purse, she called down the hall, “Fredrick, I really don’t feel well, I think I’d better go.” Without waiting for his reply she staggered to the door.
Before she could get it open, Fredrick flattened his hand against it. The man was quick, she had to give him that. The room tilted and she frowned.
He smiled his Big Bad Wolf smile. “I don’t think so, Zoe. If you’re ill, perhaps you should lie down upstairs until you’re feeling better.”
“No. I’ll be fine.” She narrowed her eyes and blinked. There seemed to be two of him. Next thing she knew she was sliding down the wall onto the floor.
Jeff raced down the street, grabbed the metal railing on the steps to Barker’s townhouse, and literally flung himself to the top. He banged on the door.
No answer.
His cell phone was still connected to Zoe’s. Plainly he heard, “That must be Jeff. He’s supposed to pick me up.” Zoe giggled faintly. “That’s funny. I do need someone to pick me up though. I can’t seem to make my legs work.”
Jeff hammered on the door. “Open the damn door, Barker, or I swear I’ll break it down.”
The door opened. He didn’t see Zoe.
“No need for threats, young man. Your timing is excellent. I’m afraid Zoe isn’t feeling well.”
“Where is she?”
Fredrick pointed behind the door.
Zoe sat with her eyes half-closed, her head leaning back against the wall. “Studley, I’m so glad you’re here. I’m suddenly very tired. I think I need a nap.” She raised both arms to him. “Help me up?”
Jeff lifted her and she slumped against the wall. He turned to the other man. “What did you do to her?” he growled, his eyes steely.
“Nothing. I haven’t done anything, Mr. Petrosky, and I resent your implication.” He spread his hands, palm out. “We finished our business and she suddenly felt ill. Asked to use the restroom. Perhaps this is a reaction to something she ate?”
Zoe hiccupped. “He gave me water . . . It tasted . . . funny.” She yawned.
“You son of a bitch. You drugged her.”
Jeff lunged at Barker and grabbed him by his shirt. His fist connected with a satisfying crunch and the man’s nose spurted blood. The next punch to his solar plexus doubled Barker over, his breath knocked out of him. He fell to the floor and curled into fetal position.
Jeff swept Zoe up in his arms. “It’s all right, baby. I’ve got you.”
Zoe nodded sleepily “Purse.” She rested her head on his shoulder.
He grabbed her bag and opened the door. “You’re done, Barker. Understand? You lose, you disgusting prick. Don’t ever come near Zoe again or you’ll be behind bars so fast it’ll make your head swim.”
He carried Zoe down the steps as Dev angled the SUV to the curb.
Amanda got out and rushed over to the couple. “What happened?”
Zoe gazed at Jeff, a silly smile plastered across her face. “My hero.” She noticed Amanda and said brightly, “Hi, Mandy. What’s up?”
“The damned mother-f—asshole drugged her. We need to get her to a hospital right away.” He settled Zoe in the back seat and raced to the other side to get in.
Amanda shut the door and Dev sped away. “Thank God for GPS. I’m locating the nearest hospital now.” Amanda tapped the display on Dev’s SUV with frantic fingers. “Okay. Two blocks up and make a left. Then three traffic lights and make a right.” She looked over her shoulder at Zoe. “Did you . . .?”
Zoe grinned. “Oh yeah, I got him good.” She pushed the button to stop the recording and took the camera out of her pocket. “Hold this for me, will you, Studley? It’s the key to our happy ending.”
Chapter 27
“Jeff, I have to get out of here now. The gallery opens in two hours and it’s the big event for you and Jen. Your interview is in the local paper and I want to be there to see all the customers who want to meet you two.” Zoe looked around the small hospital room and thr
ew back the covers. “Where are my clothes?”
“Listen, sweet cheeks, you are not going anywhere until the doctor says it’s okay. Yesterday’s fiasco took at least a year off my life, so no more risky business from you. Besides, you look sexy in a hospital gown.”
Zoe quirked a brow. “Did you drink some of that water, too?”
“Just chill, babe. The doc said he’d be here by eight to check you out and Dev and Amanda should be here any minute with clean clothes.”
“But you’ve got the camera, right? I remember giving it to you before . . . before . . .” She frowned. “What exactly happened after that?”
“You passed out. I had a heart attack, Dev got a speeding ticket, and Amanda cried her eyes out until the docs said you’d be fine.”
“Oh.” Zoe winced. “That wasn’t the way it was supposed to go.”
“No kidding.” Jeff tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “The best thing about the entire day was me punching out Mr. Sleazebag.” Jeff flexed his fist. His knuckled looked a bit the worse for wear. “I do wish I could have seen his face when he got a look at his new painting, though.” He gave her a wicked grin.
“Why? Do you think he can tell he has the copy now?”
“Mmm, well, I’m sure he knows he doesn’t have the original anymore.”
Zoe tilted her head. “Spill, Studley. What did you do?”
“I left him a copy of ‘Dogs Playing Poker.’ One of Mr. Coolidge’s very well-known paintings.”
Zoe slid her arms around her man and kissed his cheek. “My hero.”
“Stop saying that. I’m no hero. I almost got in trouble with the law and ruined your gallery’s reputation.”
“I guess we both did some things that weren’t very smart. But you’re still my hero, Studley.”
“I’d rather be your husband, sweet cheeks,” he said as he wrapped her in his embrace and kissed her.
Zoe sighed. “Remind me to call Marjorie and book the B and B for our reception. Her clientele drops off a good bit after Labor Day, so she should have a weekend free soon. I don’t want to put our wedding off much longer. It’s a good thing I know a great event planner . . .” She kissed her future husband again and sighed with happiness. All of her dreams were coming true. Just like Amanda’s had. She was starting to believe there was magic in Blue Point Cove.
Also by Karen Ann Dell and Soul Mate Publishing:
HERS BY REQUEST
In three short minutes the war destroyed Devlyn MacMurphy’s career, killed his best friend, and locked his heart behind a wall of guilt. Now he had a promise to keep and falling for his best friend’s fiancée only made matters worse. As her calls to his request line became more frequent, he used the songs of his favorite composers to hint at what he could not say.
Amanda retreated to Blue Point Cove to cope with her fiancé’s death at the cottage where she’d spent her childhood summers. Her favorite music, played by a velvet-voiced deejay, got her through many a cold, sleepless night, and she thought it was merely serendipity when her new business brought them face-to-face.
How was she to know that Dev had been her fiancé’s best friend ‘Mac’—and the cause of his death?
If “Someone to Watch over Me” was her favorite song, Dev wanted to apply for the job. But eventually he would have to tell her the truth, and no song ever written would prevent Amanda banishing him from her life to the solitary hell he so richly deserved.
Available now on Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/ootyaan
His By Design Page 26
