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It’s the teal bird. The one stuck in the tar. The one Jacob has featured in his bedroom.
Have I seen the others? The more I think about it, the more I realize,yes, I’ve been admiring the art in his condo. Praising, silently, his good taste. And all the while it’s been my art I’ve been looking at.
Under the bird it says:Sold at New Jersey Stars charity auction.
There’s a list of bids under it.
Mark Zimmer - $800
Jacob Rhodes - $10,000
Henry Armstrong - $15,000
Jacob Rhodes - $50,000 - winning bid.
I don’t think I can take many more surprises. He has not one, or two, or even three pieces ofmyart. He has six pieces. I count in my head, noting that there are actually two more that aren’t here. One’s hung right by the door.
Where did he find that one?
“Where is the payment submitted?” I ask my supposed sister-in-law.
“To the banking details on the next screen.” She comes over and coos at the image on the screen. The bird painting. “Oh, I love that one.”
“Thanks,” I manage.
She reaches for the tablet and switches to a new tab, and I scan the details. I fish out my phone and snap a picture of the account number.
If my ex-husband was the one who took me against my will, if he forced me to paint to sell—or worse, gave me an escape from reality and then snatched them away—then I’m owed that money.
Minus the fifty thousand, which apparently went to charity.
That’s a shit ton of money. Did Jacob grapple with the situation? Did he consider that I might not want him to own a painting of mine?
“When’s the last time you received art from Henry?”
Shelby sighs. “Those were the last. He said we might be hearing from you soon, so I hope this is you informing us that you have more artwork? They’re really striking, Melody. I don’t know where you find the inspiration, but I hope it never leaves you.”
I smile to keep from screaming.
Whether or not I knew about it, I can’t imagine I would lethimsell my art.
“Thank you. I’ve got an appointment to get to, but it was lovely meeting you.”
“Of course. I’ll let Frank know you stopped by.”
I don’t tell her not to. I have no doubt advising her to keep it a secret would only backfire on me.
But it does confirm one thing.
Jacobisa stalker. He’s hunted down multiple pieces of my artwork in the last two years.
A chill skates down my spine as I leave the building.
What if Jacob was the one to hurt me?
What if he found me after I left Crown Point and decided to teach me a lesson?
After all, don’t some stalkers have the mentality of,if I can’t have her, no one will?
