Page 56

"I don't know what you want me to say. And I really don’t like what you said to Stephen. Just because he ran into Arthur in the stairwell doesn’t make him guilty. I know you never liked him, but you can't pin a murder on him because of that."
"You're right. I didn't like him. He was an ass to me when I was a kid, especially when my father wasn't looking. But I don't pin crimes on innocent people, so if he's innocent, he has nothing to worry about. You, on the other hand, might want to think hard about whether you're answering my questions truthfully."
"Why would you think I wasn't?" she countered.
"Were you having an affair with Arthur?"
She gasped at his question, her gaze darting to the door.
"Don't worry. Stephen is still outside."
"You're crazy, Flynn. You're trying to get back at me for not lying to protect your father."
"And you're deflecting. Answer the question."
"No. We weren't having an affair. If Juliette told you that, then you have to understand that she's a jealous woman with a history of paranoia."
He wasn’t sure he believed her, but he decided to switch gears. "When I saw you at the museum on Friday night, you told me we needed to talk. Why?"
"I just wanted to catch up."
"Gretchen, if you have something you need me to know, tell me now. I am going to find Arthur's killer, and if you have valuable information, you need to share. Otherwise, you're obstructing justice."
"You're different, Flynn. You're a lot harder, tougher, almost cruel. That's not who you used to be. And it's hard for me to believe you became an agent after how the FBI came for your father."
"My father was a thief, and I'm not a kid anymore. I take my job seriously, and you'd be wise to remember that."
"All right." She took a quick breath. "When I saw you at the event, I was shocked, not just because it has been so many years since our paths crossed, but because I thought I saw your father last Thursday. It was just before closing. I glanced toward the window. It was almost dark outside, but I could see him so clearly."
His gut churned. "Did you go out and talk to him?"
"No. We just stared at each other, and then he walked away. It was unnerving."
"Are you sure it was him?"
"I know it was him. His face was older, and he didn't have a moustache anymore, but his eyes—so blue, just like yours—were exactly the same. Why do you think he would come back here, Flynn? Isn't the FBI still looking for him? Isn't he still a wanted man?"
"Yes, he is. I don't know why he'd come back. Maybe he just wanted to see the gallery he built."
"I'm sure you think that Stephen and I turned your dad in, but we didn't. We were as surprised as anyone when the FBI showed up. We had no idea what your dad's side business involved."
"But you benefited more than anyone by his disappearance. You ended up with this gallery."
"We did, but it took us years to rebuild our reputation, to prove that we were honest art dealers. This is our gallery now. It has no ties to your dad."
"You and Stephen are tied to my dad. As long as you're here, there will always be a connection."
"Have you ever heard from your father? I can't imagine that at some point he didn't reach out to you. He loved you so much."
Her words were like a knife to the gut. "He didn't love me. He left me and my mother. He abandoned us so he could save himself."
"He was terrified of going to prison. He wasn't a man who could be locked up."
"He should have thought of that before he became a thief."
"I know he hurt you. That's why when I saw you, I felt like I should tell you that he might be back in town." She paused. "And the fact that he's here, and now Arthur is dead…it doesn't feel like a coincidence."
"My father never killed anyone."