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“She’s painting upstairs. You should see it. It’s the most—” My teeth snap shut before I can finish. My mind stumbles back from saying more. There’s an inherent danger to admitting things like this. A locked door. A closed fist.
“The most what?” Will asks.
It’s going to take a long time to replace the old instincts I have. Longer than the weeks I’ve known Daphne. I suppose it’s like walking outside, or surfing, or attending a private showing. Every inch of progress has to be clawed out of the pavement with bare hands.
“You can see Van Gogh’s wheat fields at the Met. You can see Cassatt’s mother and daughter. But those are only the finished works. No one can go back and watch them paint.”
He’s quiet for a minute.
“What’s it like?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. Even her previous work was different. This is a kind of—” A million words come to mind. “Communion. Or magic. I’m not sure which.”
“Why are you on the phone with me, then?”
I nearly drop all of it. Toss the knife to the counter. Forget the phone. Forget the call. Run up the stairs, and back to her.
“Because Sin said that Dad came to his hotel room. I thought he’d be done with that bullshit once he got his reward money. Has he been bothering you?”
I finish with the strawberries, tip them into a ramekin, and sweep up the phone.
“He was calling the office,” Will says as I’m checking the locks on the front doors. “When I didn’t take his calls, he started calling other people in the company. One of the guys said he left a message. Said he went to the West coast.”
“Why the West coast?”
“I don’t know. Someone was headed that way, I guess. I don’t really care. The important part is that he’s gone.”
I’m checking the locks in the mudroom, and my body reacts to hearing he’s gone before my mind can dismiss it as impossible. I catch myself with one hand on the door.
“Do you have a reason to believe that?”
“He hasn’t called since then.”
Dark dread frames itself in the gallery. It’s shoved aside by bright hope, the color of springtime. Daphne’s oceans are next. More than I can count. If he’s gone, he can’t poison this place. I always thought of him as a malignancy that couldn’t be cured. But with enough space, and enough time…
With Daphne…
“Do you know anything about his debts? Is that why he might have gone?”
“I can’t tell with him, Em. He’s a fucking liar. I wouldn’t be surprised if he owed more than the reward money could cover.”
“But you haven’t seen him.”
“No. No calls. No visits. Has he been to your house?”
I go to the front door again, half-expecting to see him standing on the porch. “Not since I’ve been home.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear from him.”
“Do you think—” I want to go back to Daphne so badly it’s all I can do to stay on the first floor. “Sin said there was no way to get more money out of Daphne’s family. You don’t think he’d try that, do you?”
“Oh, he’d try.” Will gives a resigned laugh. “If he thought there was any way to con the Morellis out of more cash, he’d do it. Not sure how that would work, now that they’re cool with you.”
“I don’t know if that’s how I’d describe it.”
“I’m pretty sure letting you live and letting Daphne stay counts as an embossed invitation in that family. They didn’t even send the worst one to kill you.”
“I don’t think anyone sent—what?”
