by Eliza Watson
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement by the doorway. Her gaze darted over to find Ethan standing there, watching her.
“Heard you talking,” he said.
“My dad.”
“So have you decided if you’re going to bury him next to your mother’s grave?”
She nodded. “It’s what Kate and Roger will want. What a way to introduce myself, inviting my family to their son’s burial.”
Ethan walked toward her. “It’s hard losing someone you care about.” He stopped just in front of her.
“I’m sure your mom’s death was devastating.”
He nodded. “So was Roy’s. He was like a brother to me.”
“You couldn’t have done anything to save either of their lives. You’d have been killed yourself. You can’t feel guilty that you survived and they didn’t.”
“I always wanted my mother to run away. To take us somewhere where nobody knew us, where the bastard couldn’t find us, so we could start a new life. She worried he’d find us and that she didn’t have the money or job skills to support us. I promised her that when I was old enough to get a job, I’d take her away. Unfortunately, I couldn’t save her, and more than half the people I save aren’t worth saving. But the ones who are make it worthwhile. They’d be dead without me.”
She swallowed hard. “Like me.”
He gazed deep into her eyes, tracing a finger down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “I don’t know what I’d do if you died.” He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss against her lips, slipping his arms around to the small of her back, drawing her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he kissed her again, slipping his tongue in her mouth.
She felt safe in his arms. If she wasn’t honest with Ethan, he’d continue shutting off his emotions. She had to trust that Ethan would believe their innocence and pursue the truth. A lot had changed between them since he’d asked Mike to look into her dad’s possible involvement in a forgery ring. She couldn’t have made it through the past few days without him. She needed him by her side tomorrow.
She drew back, staring down at her mom’s wedding ring resting against her chest, avoiding Ethan’s gaze. “I ran into the bomber this afternoon.”
He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look him straight in the eyes. A mix of anger and disbelief hardened his features. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
While she explained the entire story, Ethan’s expression went from hurt to royally ticked off. He stepped back.
“This guy framed us. I was afraid you’d believe his evidence. After all the secrets I kept, I didn’t know if you’d believe my gallery and I weren’t involved.”
He walked over to the window, shaking his head. “Except for in the very beginning, I never believed you were involved. I would never believe that. Not only do you have little faith in how I feel about you, but my ability to do my job. Regardless of how well this guy tried to frame you, I wouldn’t have stopped until I’d proven your innocence and hunted down his ass.”
Olivia walked toward him. “How am I supposed to know how you feel about me when you push me away every time we get close?”
He turned to her. “You should know it’s not because I want to, it’s because I have a job to do, which I can’t do when you keep putting you and your family’s lives in danger. Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”
She nibbled at her lower lip, debating telling him about Bella being the forger. The fact didn’t jeopardize their safety; however, she needed to tell him. Yet, all he kept saying was how important keeping his job was, and needing to do his job, and everything was about his job. Would he put Bella’s welfare before his job? Did she want to put him in the position that he had to make the choice?
“Christ,” he said, dropping his head back in frustration. “Obviously, there’s something more you should be telling me. You know what, unless it’s going to affect your safety, I don’t even care. Keep your secrets.”
“As if you’re so honest with me.”
“I’ve been more open with you than anyone in my life. Maybe that’s the problem here.” He shook his head in frustration. “Where are you meeting him?”
“The parking lot at Harborview Bar tomorrow morning at nine.”
“I need to think through a plan of action. We’ll talk in the morning.”
He walked out, and the empty, hollow feeling that had consumed her at her dad’s funeral was back full force.
She was alone once again.
Chapter Nineteen
The following morning at eight, Olivia pulled into Bella’s driveway. The museum opened early today, so Bella wasn’t home. Knowing Ethan was watching nearby helped ease the nervous tension gripping her entire body. Ethan not being upset with her would help ease it even more. But he was in marshal mode, refusing to discuss their argument from the night before. His last words to her that morning had been “Let’s catch this bastard,” rather than “Good luck, I love you.”
Had she wanted him to say I love you?
Only if he meant it. And Ethan wasn’t the type to say something he didn’t mean. Neither was she. She’d have said I love you right back.
It was unlikely that the guy had followed them to Bella’s. He undoubtedly believed Olivia had the paintings stashed away in a bank vault for safekeeping. Which is what she should have done. Just to be safe, she and Ethan had left the inn together in the SUV and gone to the Coffee Cottage up the road. They’d snuck out the back and cut across yards back to the inn. They’d told Kate and Roger the SUV died, and Ethan borrowed Roger’s black pickup truck while Olivia took Kate’s blue car. Ethan followed behind her at a safe distance, keeping a lookout in case the guy materialized from somewhere.
Ethan had contacted the U.S. Marshals’ district office in Madison, and they were able to provide a marshal to assist with backup. The guy was currently in position across from Harborview Bar. Ethan said he’d worked with small-town authorities before and often found they were more of a liability than an asset.
Olivia walked up the stairs leading to the studio over the garage, praying she didn’t have to break a window to get in. Instead, the doorknob turned in her hand, and Olivia breathed a relieved sigh until she stepped inside and came to an abrupt halt. Her father’s partner was standing there, his gun pointed at Bella. Without his sunglasses, she could see the evil extending to the inner recesses of his cold, hazel eyes. She stared at him in confused panic, her heart racing. She and Ethan hadn’t anticipated this. However, Ethan would see them exit the garage, unless the guy shot her and Bella. Which he wouldn’t do without having the provenances.
“Ah, isn’t this sweet?” he said. “A family reunion. See, I told you your granddaughter was alive and would remain alive as long as you cooperated.”
Bella’s gaze narrowed in confusion. “Livvy?” she whispered.
Olivia nodded, confirming her identity. This certainly wasn’t how she wanted to introduce herself to her grandma. “Are you okay?” She took a cautious step toward Bella, and he turned the gun on her. She stopped.
“She’s fine. Had a hunch she had the paintings, having been the forger.”
“Let her go. I know which paintings you need.”
“I’ll let you both go once I have the paintings and the provenances.”
“The provenances are still at the bank.” If she told him they were in her purse, she and Bella wouldn’t get out of there alive. “We were supposed to meet at Harborview.”
“Thought this was better in case the cops or your marshal friend were also waiting for me there.” He pointed the gun at Bella. “Now show me where my paintings are.”
* * *
Ethan crept up the stairs alongside the garage. Parked down the road a half mile, he’d spotted movement inside the studio when Olivia had opened the door. Bella was supposed to be at the museum. Damn this crazy-ass lunatic. Damn his and Olivia’s argument last night. And damn his pride. Upset with Oli
via or not, he should have kissed her before parting ways at the inn. He should have known things could go wrong in a heartbeat. He should have made things right with Olivia. He’d never leave her again without kissing her goodbye.
And he would kiss her again.
He crouched outside the door, listening. The man’s voice sounded familiar, like… No way. Guilt had his imagination playing tricks on him. Ethan strained to listen more closely.
What the hell?
Roy was alive.
All these months Ethan had felt guilty when Roy wasn’t dead. He’d obviously killed the witness, but who had he killed in place of himself? Whose unattached charred finger had been wearing the remnants of Roy’s class ring? How had he staged the bombing so quickly when he couldn’t have known Ethan would be leaving? Or had he merely been waiting for the right opportunity, which Ethan had conveniently provided? Or was leaving Ethan’s lucky break?
From the sound of the voices, Roy stood on the opposite side of the room, facing the door, Olivia stood ten feet or so to the right of the door, and Bella was somewhere on the opposite side of the room. Ethan couldn’t take the chance of peering through the window and having Roy spot him. Hiding in the bushes, waiting for them to leave, would provide Ethan with the best shot. A strategic bullet to the head would take Roy out before he knew what hit him and shut down his central nervous system, making it next to impossible for him to even squeeze off a reflex shot that would put Olivia and Bella in danger.
Unfortunately, a Glock didn’t have the accuracy of a sniper’s rifle, especially not from a distance. And what if Olivia and Bella never made it out of the studio alive? If Roy discovered Olivia had the provenances on her and the paintings were in the studio… Ethan had no choice but to confront Roy now, while he held a gun on Olivia and Bella. He didn’t have time to call the marshal staked out at Harborview Bar and wait for backup.
This situation was never easy. Bursting into the room would cause a shootout, and it was a crapshoot who’d be left standing. Cautiously entering was his best bet. Which it appeared Roy was going to make easier, as he was now directing the women to walk through a door into a connecting room. Once Olivia and Bella were safely inside the other room, Ethan would go in.
Roy quickly shot that plan to hell by having Bella go into the other room alone. At least Olivia was across the room, so Roy couldn’t grab her and use her as a human shield. That’s when things really got tricky.
Ethan took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the gun. Adrenaline pumping through his veins at the speed of light, he slowly opened the door, calling out, “Drop it, Roy.”
Roy’s gaze darted to Ethan, his gun still aimed at Olivia. His gaze snapped back to Olivia, who stood ten feet to Ethan’s right. “Ethan. Wish I could say it’s nice to see you.”
“Roy?” Olivia muttered.
Ethan blocked out Olivia’s voice and even her slightest movement, remaining focused on his target. Right now, it was just him and Roy in the room. With steady hands, Ethan aimed his gun at the tip of Roy’s nose, the bullseye. An effective shot through to the brain would drop him like the sack of shit he was.
Roy glared at him, radiating an evil Ethan had never before seen in the man. An evil he’d apparently kept hidden even from those who knew him well, or at least thought they had. “I’m disappointed you didn’t follow the rules, Olivia, and told Ethan about our little rendezvous. For thirty years I followed the rules, unlike the scumbags I protected. I got into law enforcement to put criminals in prison, not some fancy new homes in suburban San Francisco. Then I discover Frank Meyers is snooping around, gathering proof that I’m skimming money off the top of funds allocated for my witnesses. If he’d turned me in, I’d have been fired two years before I was eligible for a full pension.”
“So you tried to kill him?”
“No. Javier’s the one who botched that job. Cheap help. What do you do? Didn’t want ballistics tying me to the shooting. Told him when I called to make sure he took out the guy on the outside first. He never made it inside the house. Alive anyway.” A sadistic grin spread across Roy’s face.
So much for Javier hiding out in L.A.
“Frank forced me to fake my death and kill him so my impeccable record wouldn’t be tainted after I died. I’d planned to supplement my pension with the forgeries after I retired. All these witnesses had stolen millions, killed hundreds, and supplied the country with drugs and guns, and I take a few lousy grand here and there and I was gonna get canned. That’s bullshit!” Roy’s grip tightened on his gun, and Ethan’s finger flirted with his trigger, waiting for that blink-of-an-eye moment of opportunity.
“Then you should have gotten out, Roy.”
“Still a Boy Scout, ain’t ya, Ethan?”
“You’re certainly not Roy Rogers.”
Roy laughed.
“How did you know about the forgeries?” Ethan asked.
“Andrew Donovan told me about the paintings he had stashed away, his insurance policy. They all had insurance policies, backup plans in one form or another. Something for a rainy day. So, I kept tabs on his family finances over the years to see if they were selling off the paintings. When nothing suspicious ever showed up, I knew the paintings were still around. Andrew led me to believe they were in San Francisco. I’d been patient long enough. Before my death, I confronted Andrew and hinted around about the paintings, but it was obvious he wasn’t going to give them up. After I’d protected his ass for twenty-four years, he didn’t feel he owed me a dime. So, I figured I’d find them on my own.”
“So you killed two innocent witnesses?” Ethan said.
“Andrew Donovan was far from innocent. Lucky he didn’t get his ass thrown in prison all those years ago. And that chick was part of a gang that sold drugs to ten-year-olds. Hardly a pillar of the community. Neither was Javier. As soon as you left the house that night I gave ole Javier a jingle—” Roy flinched with pain, reaching for his thigh.
Ethan adjusted his aim to Roy’s movement, pulled the trigger, and the bullet entered through Roy’s nose. Bullseye. Ethan squeezed off two more shots. A stunned expression didn’t even have the chance to flash across Roy’s face as his head snapped back and he dropped to the floor. Ethan heaved a relieved sigh, lowering his gun, attempting to loosen his white-knuckled grip from around it. Olivia stood shell-shocked, her gaze locked on the bloody hole in Roy’s face.
“Livvy, you okay?” Bella yelled frantically from the other room.
“She’s fine.”
Ethan rushed over to Olivia. Bella appeared through the doorway as Ethan brushed a kiss across Olivia’s lips and wrapped his arms around her. She collapsed against him.
“I’ve never been so scared,” Olivia said.
Ethan hugged her so tight he feared he’d crush her. “Me either.” He smoothed a gentle hand over her hair, kissing the top of her head. “Me either.”
* * *
Ethan and the U.S. Marshal waited above the garage for the local authorities while Olivia took Bella to the house. Bella refused to go to the hospital, insisting the best thing for her health was to stay home with her granddaughter. They sat on the porch swing, Olivia’s arm wrapped around her grandma. Olivia gave her a brief overview of her life since she’d left Five Lakes.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Bella said, a sparkle in her eyes. Her bright smile faded a touch. “Do Roger and Kate know Andrew’s dead?”
Olivia shook her head. “It was for everyone’s safety we didn’t reveal my true identity.” And it was the only way Ethan had convinced her to check in at the inn that day. Hopefully, Kate and Roger accepted her as well as Bella had. She slipped the wedding band out from under her dress’s neckline.
Bella smiled wide, scooping the ring up in her hand, taking a closer look at it. “My mother’s ring. I was afraid I’d never see it again. It’d been so long…” A faraway look on her face, she released the ring, lowering her hand, placing it on Olivia’s. “Impressionism was very popular in the
early eighties. I was painting copies of the masterpieces, and your father was selling them at his gallery in Chicago. It was all on the up-and-up, buyers knew they were fakes. Then one of Vinnie Carlucci’s thugs saw my work and approached your father, wanting to pay big bucks to pass off fakes of lesser-known works as originals. They were operating a ring out of the East Coast and wanted to expand their business. They had someone out there fabricating the provenances but needed another forger. We were desperate. Annie was going to die without the experimental cancer treatment. And it cost so much.”
Olivia’s gaze narrowed in confusion. “Treatment? So she did have cancer? What about the accident?”
Bella shook her head. “Oh, the accident was quite real. After it, Annie, your father, and you were taken into the program. There were only a limited number of hospitals Annie could go to for treatments, and she was afraid the mob would figure out she hadn’t died in the car accident and track your family down through these hospitals. She planned to join you and your father once she’d finished treatments. Gave your father her wedding ring to hold on to so you’d have a part of her until she was able to be with you. She died of cancer two months later.” Bella’s eyes watered, and she choked back a sob. “We’d done the forgeries behind Annie’s back. She would never have approved of us committing such a crime and risk going to prison. We’d told her that Stan’s parents had left us a bunch of money.”
When Olivia had learned about her dad’s crime, she’d thought the worst of him, that he’d done it solely for the money. Even if she’d known his motivation, she might not have thought the ends justified the means. Now, she’d just been willing to hand over fifty million in forgeries to save her family.
“I’m so sorry I kept my identity a secret. I wanted to tell you the truth.”
“I understand, dear. I know how hard it is to keep a secret even when it’s for everyone’s own good.” Bella gazed over at her petunias. “You have the right to know the secret behind my prized petunias.”
The coroner’s vehicle and U.S. Marshal backed down the drive, and Ethan walked over and joined them on the porch.
