by Fiona Grace
“Beats me,” the man said, shrugging. “Someone at Sawyer’s might know.”
“Sawyer’s?” Lacey asked.
“Sawyer & Sons. The big auction house in Dorchester. You can’t be a contact of Frank’s and not know Sawyer’s! He was in there every weekend for a time.”
“It must’ve slipped my mind.”
Lacey could hardly assimilate all this new information. To learn her father had opened a store in Canterbury only to have recently moved on felt bitterly cruel, almost worse than never knowing he’d had a store there in the first place. And now to have a glimpse into the life he’d lived in England—visiting Sawyer & Sons auction house every weekend—felt strangely intrusive. It sounded as if he’d just fallen back into the same routine and lifestyle he’d left behind in New York City, only this one hadn’t involved a wife or children. Was that the only thing he’d needed to change about his life? Were they the only reason he’d left?
“I have a flyer,” the man added, taking a glossy pamphlet down from a notice board display and handing it to Lacey. “It lists all of Sawyer & Sons’ auctions this year.”
Lacey scanned the pamphlet. The map on the back showed the auction house’s Dorchester location was only a short detour from her next planned stop of Weymouth. It wouldn’t add too much to her journey to swing by, although she may come away from it with an even bigger bruise on her heart.
She decided it was a risk she would have to take. She’d chosen not to detour to Canterbury while she’d been on vacation in Dover nearby, and that decision may very well have cost her the only real lead she had for her father.
She bought her wares and thanked the leather store owner for all his help, then headed to the van with Chester. Once she’d secured her stock in the van, she called her store to check up.
“How’s it all going?” she said into her cell phone.
“Busy,” came Gina’s voice in her ear. “How’s the treasure hunt?”
Lacey mulled over whether or not to tell Gina about what she’d learned about her father. She came down on the side of not. Speaking it out loud would make it feel more real, and she wasn’t ready for that just yet.
“More fruitful than I anticipated,” she said, evasively.
“Well, I just got off the blower with the printers,” Gina said. “Turns out they’re closed tomorrow so the only time they could print the posters was today, so I just went ahead and gave them the green light.”
The last thing on Lacey’s mind right now was a poster, what with everything she’d just learned about her father. “That’s fine. I trust you. As long as there’s a horse on the poster, I don’t need to see it first.”
“Yes, yes. There’s a horse. Of sorts.”
Lacey’s eyelids closed in time to the sinking feeling in her chest. “Of sorts? What does that mean?”
“Well, I got the picture off the internet,” Gina explained. “I searched for ‘racing horse’ and got the image off the tab. So I didn’t go to the actual website.”
Lacey didn’t like where this was going. “Go on…”
“It was only afterward that I realized the picture was from a rescue site, a charity for horses that have been retired. You know, put out to pasture. So it is a horse, just a very old, decrepit one.”
Lacey sighed. Good thing the task was just a distraction. “Hopefully no one notices,” she said. “Look, I have to go now. I’m taking a small detour. There’s an auction house a few miles out of my way that I want to visit. See if I can make a new contact.”
“Of course,” Gina replied ruefully. Lacey could practically hear her roll her eyes. “So will I be balancing the till and closing up tonight?”
That familiar swirl of guilt rolled in Lacey’s stomach. She had to remind herself that in this context, Gina was her employee. Asking her to perform routine tasks was well within her pay bracket. “If I’m not back to do it, then yes.”
“Fine,” Gina sighed.
Lacey ended the call and looked at Chester. “Honestly, sometimes the way she speaks to me you’d think I didn’t even pay her! Or give her that big hydroponic system she’d been harping on about for months.”
She rolled her eyes and turned the key in the ignition. The van sputtered to life. As she pulled back onto the harbor road, heading toward Dorchester, she looked at the leather store in her wing mirror. She’d never expected when she entered that she’d be leaving with something far more precious than antiques: a solid lead on her father.
CHAPTER FIVE
The Sawyer & Sons auction house was located in the sort of English country manor Lacey’s mom and sister would kill to live in. Ivy climbed its weathered red bricks, surrounding the white-framed windows on its second floor. Expensive SUVs filled the gravel lot out front. Lacey couldn’t help but blush as Tom’s ugly van noisily puttered into place beside them.
Lacey double-checked the pamphlet the leather store man had given her.
“There’s an auction on today,” she told Chester, glancing up at the van’s digital clock. “It starts in fifteen minutes. We’ll have to hurry if we want to catch one of the Sawyers.”
She hopped out of the van. Chester jumped out after her. Together, they climbed the stone steps and entered in through the large doors of the manor house.
The foyer was so grand and so full of people, Lacey felt like she’d walked into a theater rather than an auction house. Sawyer’s was clearly a super-classy establishment. She couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious in her casual clothes.
A sign above her head indicated that the office for payments and collections was straight ahead. Please allow five minutes between purchase and collection, it said. The auction room was through doors on the right, so Lacey headed left into the showroom where all the upcoming auction’s lots were on display.
The showroom was as large as a ballroom and packed full of beautiful antiques. Two banquet-style tables ran through the center of the room, displaying ornaments, jewelry, porcelain, and art, while large pieces of furniture encircled the perimeter.
Lacey felt a hitch of delight in her chest. It was an antique dealer’s dream come true. The sort of place she aspired to run one day. The sort of place her father would quickly lose himself in…
A heaviness settled on her shoulders as she remembered why she’d come here in the first place; not to hunt for antiques, but to hunt for clues as to her father’s whereabouts.
She scanned the room. A smartly dressed man stood at the far end of the hall. His formal black suit immediately gave him away as a Sawyer & Sons auctioneer.
Lacey took several paces in the direction of the man, only for him to be approached by a customer. She halted her advance. Chester quirked his head at her quizzically.
“I don’t want to interrupt him when he’s dealing with a customer,” she explained.
Chester huffed. It was as if he knew the real reason she’d stopped her approach was to buy more time, that she’d just jumped on the first excuse not to speak to the man. Because if he did indeed know the fate of her father, then what came next? The fear of knowing what had happened to her father seemed suddenly worse than the uncertainty she’d gotten used to all these years.
The suited man headed off with the customer to attend to their query.
“Let’s look at the furniture until he’s free,” Lacey said hurriedly, pacing away in the opposite direction.
Chester gave her another huff and trotted after her.
Lacey was gazing absentmindedly at a writing bureau in walnut wood when a voice from beside her said, “What a gorgeous dog.”
She looked over to see a man crouched down beside Chester, petting him. He was fairly smartly dressed in a sand-colored suit jacket, white shirt, and beige slacks. His hair was dark blond and curly.
“I’m a big fan of the Border collie,” he added, looking up at Lacey with twinkling blue eyes. He smiled, and dimples appeared in his cheeks.
“He’s an English shepherd,” Lacey told him.
&n
bsp; The man started to laugh, his pearly teeth on show. “Ah, you’re American. Over here we call them Border collies.”
“You do?” Lacey said, surprised. “I’ll have to remember that.” She could use it to impress Gina once she was back in Wilfordshire.
“They’re a lovely breed, aren’t they?” the man continued. “I got a collie when I was a kid just because my name is Colin.” He chuckled. “But it ended up being a great decision! I’ve had a collie companion ever since.”
As he ruffled Chester’s fur, Lacey glanced back over her shoulder, searching for the Sawyer son. She found him, standing alone once again. Now was her chance to speak to him about her father. But Lacey felt too anxious to even move.
“I’m sorry,” Colin said, suddenly. “I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I?”
“Not at all,” Lacey said, turning back, embarrassed for being rude and grateful for an excuse not to take action. “You were telling me about your collie companion.”
Colin stopped petting Chester and stood. He was tall and slender. Lacey guessed he was in his mid- to late forties.
“Stella,” he said. “She’s at home. She’s far too old for these long days out now unfortunately. But she used to love an auction in her youth.” He smiled again. “What’s your dog’s name?”
“Chester,” she said, watching as her pooch started pacing around the base of the walnut bureau, nose first, sniffing centuries’ worth of interesting scents. “I adopted him when I moved to the UK. Actually, he adopted me.”
“And is this his way of sniffing out a bargain?” Colin joked, as Chester began his second lap of the bureau.
Lacey chuckled. “He likes to think he’s helping.”
Just then, a voice sounded over the public address system. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you could please take your seats now, the auction will commence in five minutes.”
Lacey looked over to the spot she’d last seen the Sawyer son. He’d gone. She’d missed her chance to talk to him. She’d been too distracted by her chat with Colin. Or, in honesty, she’d let herself be distracted by Colin because she was too nervous to follow the lead on her father.
“After you,” Colin said, gesturing to the door that led out to the foyer.
She headed out, Chester trotting beside her, trying to work out what to do next. The auction was going to last for hours. She couldn’t wait until the end to speak to the black-suited man. Then she remembered the sign in the foyer. She’d only have to wait five minutes after the sale of the first item before there was someone in the office she could speak to. So she headed into the auction room to kill the five minutes.
Colin gestured to a seat and Lacey took it. Chester nudged his way past her legs and lay at her feet with a large yawn.
“Someone’s sleepy,” Colin commented as he took the seat beside her.
“We set out early this morning,” Lacey explained, before suddenly realizing she’d only had one coffee at breakfast and it was now almost lunch time! She yawned before she could stop herself.
“You must be sleepy too,” Colin said. “Let me fetch you a coffee. They have refreshments at the side.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Lacey tried to say, but her yawn had turned into a comically protracted one she wasn’t able to speak through.
It was too late. Colin disappeared to fetch the coffee.
The seats started filling up quickly, and a group of elderly people started shuffling along the row toward her.
“This seat is taken,” Lacey said to an old woman coming up on her left-hand side.
“What?” the woman said loudly.
“This seat is taken,” Lacey tried again. She noticed the woman had a hearing aid in, so she patted the seat to emphasize her point.
“Thank you, dear!” the woman shouted, clearly having misunderstood and promptly sitting in Colin’s seat.
Lacey turned to the right just as a man on crutches with a broken leg sat in the other spare space beside her.
She stood, looking around for another pair of seats, only to discover the auction room had almost completely filled up. At the same time, Colin returned with the coffees. He took one look either side of her at the old woman with the hearing aid and the injured man with crutches before laughing, giving her a playful shrug, and abandoning the coffee on the side table. He took a seat further up the hall.
Lacey sank back down, surprised by just how disappointed she felt to not be sitting next to Colin for the auction.
Because it’s nice to have company, she told herself, sternly.
The black-suited man took to the stage, and his microphone squeaked as he spoke into it. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman. I’m Jonty Sawyer and I’d like to welcome you all to this weekend’s auction. We’re starting with two very striking artworks by the famous Mexican muralist, David Alfaro Siqueiros, both previously exhibited at the Memorial Art Gallery in New York.”
The assistant carefully placed the first painting onto the display easel. It was a gorgeous interpretation of a horse, in black swirls.
“Here we have Horse & Rider, which was painted with shoe polish,” Jonty Sawyer said. The assistant placed the second picture on the display easel. It was an oil painting of a man on a horse in bright reds and browns. “The second is this vibrant oil painting.”
Lacey was stunned. They were both gorgeous pieces, and absolutely perfect for the clientele she was expecting to attend her own auction. She’d not expected to actually want anything at the auction, but suddenly found herself readying to bid on them, her heart pounding with excited anticipation.
“We’ll start the bidding at five hundred pounds,” Jonty Sawyer announced.
Lacey raised her hand immediately.
“Five hundred pounds,” Jonty confirmed, pointing at her.
A hand further up the hall went up.
“Five fifty?” he asked, then with a nod, affirmed, “Five fifty.”
He looked back at Lacey. She raised her hand again, and the bidding war commenced.
As the price was pushed up and up by denominations of fifty, Lacey glanced around the room, trying to find the bidder she was battling against. Her gaze fell on Colin.
When recognition sparked in his eyes, he held up an apologetic hand to her.
“Seven hundred and fifty pounds,” the auctioneer said, looking at Colin. Colin graciously bowed out of the sale with a shake of the head.
The auctioneer looked back at Lacey. “We have two David Alfaro Siqueiros paintings going for seven hundred pounds. Seven hundred pounds. Can I get seven fifty? Seven fifty? Seven twenty-five? Seven ten?” He looked around the hall before his gaze fell back on Lacey. “Sold for seven hundred pounds!”
The gavel came down, sealing the deal, and a grin spread across Lacey’s lips.
When five minutes had elapsed, Lacey left her seat and headed to the main office to pay and collect her paintings. She was the first person inside, and there was no one yet manning the counters. Chester paced back and forth seemingly as impatient as she was, then tipped his head up at the sound of the door they’d entered through opening. He started wagging his tail.
Curious, Lacey turned. It was Colin.
“Fancy bumping into you here,” he joked as Chester trotted up to him like they were old friends.
Lacey felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “Colin. Did you just make a purchase?”
“I did. An oil painting. Not quite in the same caliber of David Alfaro Siqueiros.” A knowing smile appeared on his lips. “Sorry for pushing up the price of them. I didn’t realize you were the other bidder.”
“No need to apologize,” Lacey told him. “I still got them for a steal. And it was kind of you to let me win after I completely failed to save you a seat.”
Colin laughed. “What can I say? I was raised to be a gentleman.”
He grinned his angelic smile, and Lacey felt her cheeks warm. The conversation was distinctly flirty, and while it was nice to get some attention from a handsome
man, she would never do anything to jeopardize her relationship with Tom. Besides, she still had to find one of the Sawyer sons to speak to about her father, and she was letting herself get distracted. Again.
At last, a smartly dressed woman came from the back room up to the counter. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said, beckoning Lacey over.
Lacey went up to pay for and collect her paintings. She guessed that the woman at the counter was not one of the Sawyer sons—being a woman and all—but perhaps if she’d worked here for a while she might have a recollection of Lacey’s father.
Lacey just about got the guts up to ask when a second woman came from the back room to the counter and gestured for Colin to approach. He sidled up next to Lacey, casually leaning his elbow on the counter. Lacey shut her mouth again. The moment was lost.
“So, what’s on your agenda for the rest of the day?” Colin asked Lacey, as the woman at his counter went to fetch his artwork.
“Chester and I have an afternoon of treasure hunting,” Lacey told him. “Then we’re heading back to my store.”
“You own a store?” Colin asked, sounding impressed. “Let me guess… if you’re buying the Siqueiros paintings for decoration then it must be something classy. Furniture?”
“Close,” Lacey replied. “Actually, the paintings aren’t for decoration. I’m selling them on. I’m an antiquer and auctioneer.”
“Are you really?” Colin said, his eyebrows raising. “How fascinating.”
The woman at the counter looked up from the till, her gaze flicking from Colin to Lacey with intrigue. Lacey immediately understood why. Colin was flirting.
Feeling a blush creep into her cheeks, Lacey realized she had to nip this in the bud before it got awkward.
“That’s all gone through,” the woman said, handing Lacey’s credit card back to her. “Here’s your receipt. And your paintings, wrapped and ready to go.”
Lacey thanked her and quickly tucked a painting under each arm before she turned to Colin.
“It was nice to meet you,” she said quickly while he was distracted with his own payment, and hurried away before he had a chance to suggest coffee or lunch or anything similar.
