His By Design (21 page)

“I might be able to help you with that.” Russ glanced over Zoe’s shoulder and signaled to Jeff to bring his sculpture forward.

At the sound of the rolling wheels, Zoe turned. “Jeff. I wondered where you were. What have you got there?”

“Oh, just a small tribute to the person responsible for bringing some culture, and a lot of beauty, to Blue Point Cove.” Russ helped him to position the pedestal and with a flourish Jeff removed the tarpaulin.

“Oh my goodness.” Zoe’s hands flew to her mouth, then she reached out tentatively, as though the sculpture might disappear if she touched it. “Jeff, this is . . . beautiful. So beautiful, I’m speechless with admiration.” She circled the statue, devouring every detail. When she returned to the front of it, there were tears in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, sweet cheeks. This was supposed to make you happy.” Jeff brushed the single tear that slipped down her face away.

“I am happy. Overwhelmed and ecstatic and . . . and stunned.” She reached up and caressed his cheek. “You realize I’m buying this for the gallery? There’s no chance I would let anyone else own it.”

“You don’t have to buy it, babe. It’s my gift to you.”

A silky voice interrupted them. “Quite a touching display. But you might want to make sure it’s really his to give away, Zoe.”

The group turned to find Fredrick Barker standing a few feet away. He chuckled at their surprise. “You really shouldn’t leave the back door unlocked, Zoe. Anyone can just walk right in.”

“Yeah? Well you can just walk right the hell out, asshole.” Jeff clenched his fists.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to give orders, Mr. Petrosky. This gallery doesn’t belong to you. Right now it belongs to Zoe and me, although only one of us will own it soon enough.” He shifted his gaze to Zoe. “You look lovely, by the way, my dear. And, indeed, you have done a remarkable job with this place. I had no idea I would wind up with such a well thought-out venue as a result of my investment.”

Zoe shook off Amanda’s restraining hand and stalked toward him. “You are not ‘winding up’ with any part of this gallery, Fredrick. I have until September to repay your loan, and I have no doubt I’ll have the money in plenty of time.”

“Maybe, my dear. But once the word gets out that you’ve committed fraud, there may not be many buyers for your merchandise.”

Jeff watched Zoe pale in response to Barker’s taunt, and his own gut twisted with apprehension.
How did this guy find out the paintings aren’t mine?

“You wouldn’t . . . you swore . . .” Zoe stuttered.

“Oh dear, dear, Zoe. You always were such an innocent.” Barker’s gaze traveled down then up Zoe’s slender body. “It’s one of the many things I love about you. Such charming naiveté.”

Jeff started for him, anger distorting his face.

Russ grabbed his arm and shook his head.

Barker pointed at Jeff’s chest. “That’s right, Lothario. I wouldn’t add assault to your list of crimes. In fact, I suggest you concentrate on explaining to Ms. Silvercreek why you’ve been lying to her all these months.”

Chapter 20

Zoe frowned and glanced back at Jeff. She’d thought Fredrick’s threat referred to her, not Jeff. He wouldn’t meet her stare and a muscle jumped in his cheek. She frowned as her gaze shifted between the two men, one smugly confident, the other angry and . . . afraid?

She didn’t want Fredrick to reveal her secret in front of everyone. She’d be too ashamed to ever look any of them in the eye again. But why did Jeff look so worried?

“Cat got your tongue, Jeff?” Fredrick sneered. “No matter. I’m glad to help.” He focused his condescending grin on Zoe. “None of those canvases signed J. Petrosky were painted by your boyfriend.”

Zoe shook her head, not believing him.

“Yes, dear, it’s true. They were all painted by the woman who lives with him. She’s quite talented, I must admit, and who knows what line Mr. Petrosky fed her to get her to sign his name to them.” He spread his hands, palms up, and shrugged. “Regardless of how he accomplished it, selling them as his own is fraud. I’m sure you understand what an accusation of fraud can do to a novice artist, and to the gallery owner involved in the deception.” He pursed his lips in mock sympathy. “Tsk, tsk.”

Zoe’s mind reeled. The phrase ‘the woman who lives with him’ echoed over and over in her head. That news was more upsetting than the purported ‘fraudulent’ paintings. Jeff was
living
with another woman?
That’s
why he bought those extra meals from Ed’s diner? That’s where he went when he wasn’t working at the gallery? Does he make love to her before or after he’s been with me?
Oh God, probably both.

So this other woman was the artist? But why hadn’t she brought her paintings to the gallery herself? She remembered their conversation when he’d brought the first canvas for her to see. He didn’t want her to think he’d taken on her renovation project so she’d show his work in her gallery. He didn’t want her to think he’d had sex with her just for that reason, too.

Well, aren’t I the world’s biggest fool?

No. Wait
, she told herself.
It isn’t as though Fredrick has never lied to you. He could be making this whole story up. Could just be trying to ruin my Grand Opening out of spite.
She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. There was a simple enough solution. She took the few paces to stand in front of Jeff.

“I don’t have time for detailed explanations. I have a gallery to open. So I want simple yes or no answers. Did you paint those pictures?”

Jeff’s eyes looked haunted as he replied. “I— No.”

The single word hit her like a fist. She nodded. Inhaled. “Is there a woman living with you at the motor court?”

“Well . . . not exactly—”

Zoe put her hand up to halt any justification.

Jeff nodded. “Yes.”

That answer almost doubled her over. She felt tears gather behind her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, though. She didn’t have time for that. Later. She’d save them for later. She put her hand out, palm up. “The key to the back door, please.”

He dug in his jeans pocket, then dropped the key into her hand. “Zoe, I—”

She shook her head. “Please go. Now.”

He left quietly without looking at Russ or Amanda. Zoe saw the subtle tilt of Amanda’s head which had Dev following him out. She turned back to Fredrick. “I hope you’re happy. Now, get out. You’ve done enough damage for one day.”

“Watch your tone, my dear. Remember who holds all the aces here.”

“You won’t be able to play them if you’re dead, Fredrick. And right now I’m as close as I’ve ever been to physical violence. Leave now before I decide a jail sentence is worth putting you in the hospital.”

He held up both hands and tilted his head down. The gesture of surrender didn’t completely hide his self-satisfied grin, but he left without another word, holding the door open for the Chronicle’s photographer to pass him on the way in.

“Mr. Holcomb, would you please begin with some shots of our guest artist, Russel Manheim? I have something to take care of in the office, but I’ll join you in a moment.” Grateful her voice sounded calm and businesslike, Zoe forced a smile and retreated to her office.

Amanda followed Zoe and closed the door. She tried to put her arms around her friend but Zoe pushed her away.

“Don’t, Mandy. I’m barely holding myself together as it is. One kind word and the floodgates will open. I don’t want to ruin the day I’ve worked so hard for. You only get one opening day, and damnit, I’m going to make the most of mine. After we close I’ll try to figure out what to do about . . . everything. Right now, you can help me the most by being my rock.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, Amanda silently offering her support and Zoe gratefully accepting it. “Now if you’ll get these hors d’oeurves plated and ready to go, I’ll open the champagne and fill the glasses.”

Amanda nodded but said, “You have to listen to Jeff’s side of the story, Zo, before you make any decisions. He deserves that much at least.”

“I guess.” Zoe’s hands trembled as she filled the glasses but she managed not to spill a drop of the golden liquid. So many questions fought for attention her brain spun. She’d deal with all of them later. Right now she had to concentrate on presenting a welcoming, professional facade to her soon-to-be-arriving guests.

What will I do with all of Jeff’s canvases? I can’t continue to sell them as his now that I know they were painted by . . . someone else.

“Amanda, I need to talk to Russ for a few minutes and get his opinion on how I should handle those paintings Jeff claimed were his. Can you send him back here and tell the photographer I’ll be out in a minute or two?”

“Of course.” Amanda took two trays of pastries and went to find Russ.

Zoe rubbed her palms down her skirt and paced.

Russ entered quietly and closed the door behind him. His gaze held both sorrow and compassion. “What can I do to help, Zoe?”

“Did you know about all this?” she blurted before she could stop herself. “No. No. Don’t answer that. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “What I need to know is how to deal with any sales of . . . Jeff’s . . . paintings. I’m sure some of them will be bought but what to I tell the buyers about the artist? I don’t want to lie to them.”

And continue to commit fraud. Who knew the art world was so fraught with peril?

“My suggestion is to say you expected the artist to be here but that . . . she . . . was unavoidably detained. Avoid giving details about the artist other than to say how impressed you are by the quality of her paintings and that you hope to exhibit more in the future. If you must, say Jeff is her agent, but also among the missing. Comment on how reasonably priced the canvases are because the artist is new, which makes them an excellent buy for a collector who expects his investment to grow in value as the artist becomes more well-known.”

Zoe nodded slowly. “Okay, I guess I can manage that.”

Russ hitched one hip onto the corner of Zoe’s desk and crossed his arms across his chest. “I’m a bit surprised myself about your hesitancy in handling this since it was obvious from Fredrick’s statement that you are already familiar with art fraud. Just as it’s obvious from your expression then—and now—that you’ve been personally involved in some shady dealings in the past.”

“Oh, but I—”

Russ waved her to silence, a stern look on his face. “Since you didn’t have time for Jeff’s explanations, I doubt that you have time to discuss your past escapades with me now, either. Why don’t we save that talk for later and get you through this opening with the minimum of damage for now.”

“You’re right, Russ. I need to open the front doors in five minutes, so I’ll, we’ll, postpone all of the rest until later.” She put her hand on his arm, her gaze pleading for understanding. “It’s really not what you think.”

“Just keep in mind that works both ways, Zoe.” Russ squeezed her fingers and stood. “Let’s get this show on the road, young lady. And work on your smile, it’s a bit puny right now.”

A grateful smile spread across Zoe’s face.

Russ nodded. “Mmm, much better.”

Zoe straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. Time to face the public.

Jeff sat in the truck and stared blindly through the windshield. Misery clawed at his
insides. He started when Dev opened the passenger door and climbed in.

“Mind if I come along for the ride?”

“What, did Zoe tell you to worm the truth out of me?”

“Nah. She’s busy reading that Barker dude the riot act.” Dev intentionally used one of Jeff’s favorite appellations. He waved Jeff on. “Drive, man. Let’s get out of here before we both change our minds and go back in there to beat the crap out of that ass-hat.”

Jeff hit the gas and headed for the cove he’d taken Zoe to last fall. No way could he go back to the motel and face Jen with the news that the shit had hit the fan and they were in big trouble. “Much as I’d love to do that, I have to admit he told the truth, although how he found out about Jen is a mystery.”

“And Jen is . . .?”

“My sister.” Jeff glanced over to get a quick take on Dev’s reaction.

“Your sister? I didn’t know you even had a sister. Let alone that she lived in that . . . dump . . . with you. As a matter of fact, I don’t think anyone in town knew it, either.”

“Yeah? Well, Barker knew. He must have wormed it out of Pennypacker. Probably when he was too hung-over to keep his mouth shut about it. Bastard.”

“Who? Pennypacker or Barker?”

“Both.” His anger fueled a fast and reckless ride, but Dev merely anchored himself with a foot on the dashboard and kept his mouth shut. Jeff edged off the road and parked behind some tangled undergrowth. He climbed out and followed an overgrown path toward the cove, kicking stones as he went. Dev followed, giving the other man space and time to work off his anger and frustration.

Eventually Jeff dropped down on a rock near the waterline and stared across the bay. Dev joined him and they silently contemplated the bright early summer day.

“You might as well tell me the whole deal, pal. The cat’s out of the bag now anyway.”

Jeff sighed. “Jen’s my sister. A couple of years ago we were in a car crash while I was driving. I didn’t have a scratch but it messed Jen up pretty badly.”

Jeff closed his eyes and sighed again at the memory. He picked up a stone and skipped it out over the water.

“Aw, damn. Man.” Dev squeezed Jeff’s shoulder.

“Yeah. The trauma surgeons paid a lot more attention to her shattered hip and a couple of fractured vertebrae than they did to her face. They just kinda sewed her up, so Jen needed a couple of operations by a plastic surgeon to . . . to . . . fix her up.” He looked at Dev, his misery as close to the surface as he’d ever allowed it to get in front of another person. “She was a beautiful girl. Before. She was happy and sweet and funny as hell. And I took that all away from her, just so I could save a few extra minutes. Now she can’t walk far without a leg brace and she won’t let anyone see her face. She’s been living like a hermit while I’ve tried to save up the money for her surgery.”

“Shit. You should have told me. We could have done something on the air to raise money for her.”

“No. Are you kidding? She’d kill me if I told anyone. Stubborn woman doesn’t want any ‘charity.’ Anyway, Jen paints and as you can see by what’s in the gallery, she’s good. Damn good. But she knew if she wanted to sell anything the owner of whatever gallery she applied to would want to meet her. And she wouldn’t do that.”

“So you figured if Zoe thought they were yours, she’d hang them in her gallery. And she did.”

Jeff nodded. “And on Black Friday last November we sold enough to pay for Jen’s first operation.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Yeah. After Jen’s second operation we were going to come clean. Jen would meet Zoe at the gallery and explain the whole deal. Of course, we needed to sell more paintings to get enough for the next operation . . .” Jeff tossed the last stone over his shoulder. “I don’t know how to tell Jen our plan is toast now. She did so well after the first operation I know she really had her hopes up for the next one. Shit, I sure fucked things up royally.”

“Don’t give up hope yet. Zoe will understand once you explain things . . .”

Jeff scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

Dev shrugged. “I have to admit this mess has a lot in common with the trouble I got into with Amanda. Women really hate it when you lie to them, no matter how good the reason seems to us. If it weren’t for Zoe’s help, I might never have gotten a chance to make things right with Amanda.”

“That’s all well and good, but nobody’s gonna make things right with that Barker dude. I expect the police to come after me with an arrest warrant for art fraud as soon as he spills his guts to them.” He stood and brushed off his jeans. “Which means I’d better get back to the motel and brace Jen for what’s coming.”

“You do what you have to, pal. Meanwhile, I’m going to look into this Barker character and see what I can dig up. Drop me back at the gallery. I’ll check in with you later and tell you how bad the damage is.”