Page 46

Chapter Forty-One

C laire arrived later at the gallery the next morning than she expected.

She’d been sidetracked by a sunrise. This morning, the sun had been nestled in purple-gray clouds with hints of salmon.

The contrast between that and the deep grayish-blue ocean was picture-worthy.

She’d brought her coffee to the patio along with her sketch pad and tried to capture the serenity, wishing she had the day off, but a big show was coming up, and she and Hillary had a lot of work to do.

She wondered how Joe was doing. He had an out-of-town job and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow; she missed him.

Things were going well in their relationship.

He was a generous lover and a good friend, albeit a tad bossy.

She snorted. A tad bossy? Make that very bossy but in a good way.

He was always in protection mode. She had to laugh when he caught himself being over-the-top bossy and would just glare at her when she called him out on it.

Sighing, she got up. Work was waiting. It took her about twenty minutes to get to the gallery.

A cop car cut off her entrance to the parking lot.

She parked on the street and walked to the back lot where they parked.

Cops were milling around, blue and white lights flashed, a reporter was getting statements, and people stood there covering their mouths.

What the heck had happened? It was a safe neighborhood.

Well, except for those two jerks who had attacked her and Joe, there had never been any trouble.

She saw Hillary sniffling in a corner and raced over.

“Oh, my goodness, Hillary, what happened?”

“Ro—” She burst into tears.

“Ro? Roman? What happened to him? Oh, my God. What happened to Roman?” Bile gurgled in her stomach.

“I don’t know. I arrived here about fifteen minutes ago. When I parked, I noticed his car was here. I know he wasn’t due in until later.” Hillary sobbed harder.

Claire handed her a tissue and patted her back.

Hillary finally got control of herself and shook her head. “I went inside and found his body in his office. Blood everywhere and I called the police.”

“This is awful. I can’t believe he’s dead. He was such a nice man, and this is generally a safe neighborhood,” said Claire. “I wonder if this was a robbery or random act, and why was he here so early?”

She looked around the alley. A few pieces of paper were floating around, although the building’s owner kept it relatively clean.

A high steel fence separated the alley from their back neighbors.

Other stores on the block shared parking back here.

A couple of cars were parked farther down, but it was still early enough that most employees hadn’t come in yet.

It looked like Roman got there early or maybe never left. Who would do this to him?

“Maybe the security camera caught whoever it was that killed him,” Claire said. She hoped that was the case.

An officer came over and asked them questions. Neither had information to add. He took their names and walked away.

Another car pulled up; “coroner” written on the side.

Déjà vu. Wasn’t it just a short time ago she and Joe were talking to the police when the coroner pulled in?

Claire took Hillary’s arm and walked into the gallery.

There was no reason for them to stand outside with the cops.

Plans had to be made to cancel the show.

“So, the security cameras didn’t identify the person who killed Roman?

” asked Joe. He had been shocked to learn of Roman’s death when he arrived home.

She and Hillary never opened the gallery for the show and had gone home after the police checked the gallery and questioned them.

But there was still work to do, so here she was, back at the gallery.

Joe came with her for moral support. Or maybe he wanted to protect her.

Either way, she was happy with the company.

“Yeah, that’s what the police said. Roman only had security cameras upstairs and out back, not in his office or the main floor,” replied Claire. “I had complained to him about that, and Roman was in the process of getting more installed.”

It had been a couple of days since Roman’s murder. The police had no suspects, no reason why Roman was killed—nothing.

Claire and Joe had stopped by the day after Roman’s death to console Roman’s fiancée, who was devastated.

The fate of the gallery was up in the air.

Claire talked with clients and bill collectors who were anxious for news.

There wasn’t much she could tell them because she had no idea what was going to happen to the gallery .

The bell on the door rang while Claire was taking down a painting. She saw Roman’s fiancée, Chloe, walk in.

“Claire.”

“Oh, sweetie, what are you doing here? Have the police found out anything?” asked Claire.

“Unfortunately, no. That isn’t why I came in.” Chloe motioned for Claire to follow her into Roman’s office. She sat at Roman’s desk.

“Pull up a chair. I want to pass something by you.”

Claire sat down and looked at Chloe’s face. She looked pale and had deep bags under her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

Chloe sighed. “I know Roman was a shameless flirt. But I trusted him, and I trusted his ability to make this gallery work. We both had a fifty-fifty interest in the business. I don’t want to close the gallery, so I was wondering if you would stay on for the time being and continue with the shows.”

Oh my. That was not what Claire was expecting her to say. She thought maybe they would be closing the gallery. She loved working here, and it was sad to think of not coming here every day.

She sat back in her chair. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought the gallery would close. Are you going to sell it? How long would you expect me to stay on?”

“I’ll probably sell it at some point.” Chloe’s eyes filled with tears. “I can’t think about selling right now. I need the income, and the only way to make money is to sell art.” She shrugged. “As long as it’s here, I’ll feel close to Roman.”

Claire thought about the future. She and Joe were getting closer.

She wanted more from their relationship, but Joe was still holding back.

If she put roots down, she would want him by her side.

But would he be? Now that she had a taste of Joe Harkin, if he wasn’t in her life, she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay in Black Pointe. Too many painful memories.

“I’ll stay for a while. Can I ask Hillary to stay on?” She was sure Hillary would be glad to keep her job.

“Of course. Thank you, Claire. I’ll let you know about selling the gallery, but that won’t be for a while.” Chloe got up, hugged Claire and left.

Joe was not happy when he heard the news about Claire’s boss. This was the second time that violence had hit the shop—that he knew of. The car incident might have been a coincidence, but he didn’t believe Roman’s murder was just a fluke.

“The police don’t have any leads in Roman’s murder. Has Sam been able to find anything?” Claire asked.

“Nothing that I know of.”

Claire was sitting at the small table in his kitchen, finishing her breakfast. He looked at the sunlight filtering through the window, highlighting every lock of her hair. She looked like an angel sitting there.

However, Sam called and said she was coming over and would be there in about fifteen minutes. Hmmm, maybe if he was fast… Nah, even he wasn’t that fast. Making love would have to wait.

He sat down across from her. He hesitated to ask her, but he was concerned about her safety. She was a strong, independent woman now that she didn’t have to worry about Keith hurting her, and he didn’t want her to lose that. But her safety came first.

“Claire, I’d like for you to stop working at the gallery for a short time until Roman’s murder is resolved.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think I’m in danger? ”

“No, I don’t think so. I would just feel better if I were able to guard you in the house.”

She sighed, didn’t say anything, and Joe watched a flurry of emotions pass through her eyes. Fear, worry, anger. He didn’t like the anger.

“No.”

“No?”

Claire picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. Placed it on the saucer. No, she banged it down. The saucer jumped a little. He guessed she was a little angry. Tough. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to protect her.

“That’s right. No.” Her face reddened, and she drew in a steady breath. Then another. “I made up my mind when I left Keith that I was never going to be afraid again. And that I would never let someone else’s opinion stop me from doing what I want, need to do.” She spoke in a measured tone.

She reached over for his hands. “I respect your opinion. Honestly, I do. I understand you want to protect me. I’m glad you want to protect me. But you can’t follow me around twenty-four seven, making sure nothing hurts me.”

“Sure, I can.”

“Humph,” she muttered. “No, you can’t. I won’t let you. I’m a grown woman. I haven’t always made the best decisions for myself but hiding out because something happened to someone I work with is not who I am or what I’m going to do.”

Joe opened his mouth to retort, but the doorbell rang. Sam. Damn, the woman had the worst timing. But if Claire thought he wasn’t going to protect her, she had another think coming. The argument wasn’t over, just postponed.

Sam had just left. She only dropped off some papers from the shelter for Claire to sign. The protection conversation was still present in his mind.

He pulled Claire close and whispered in her ear, “Please don’t go back to the gallery unless I can protect you.”

She abruptly pulled away from him. “Joe, I said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m a grown woman. I’m not going to go through life with protection. The discussion is closed. Promise me you won’t get involved.”

He hesitated.

“Promise me.”

He nodded. Didn’t want to.

She picked up her purse and stomped out of his house.

He was left standing there feeling helpless.

Damn her. Didn’t she know he would do anything for her?

That protecting her was one of the things he could do to help her.

He hated that Keith had hurt her, hated that those men could have hurt her, hated himself because he hadn’t protected her all these years.

He sat down, holding his head in his hands.

He hated that they argued. But he needed to do something.

He thought about following her, but he’d promised not to.

Ah, but he didn’t promise not to ask someone else to watch her.

He looked around for his phone, then remembered he left it in the kitchen.

While he was there, he grabbed a beer, then dialed Hank.

He knew Hank was off for a couple of days.

It rang two, three times.

“Hello.”

Joe stared at the phone. What did that say about him? He promised Claire not to get involved, and that’s precisely what he was doing. She was a grown woman, capable of taking care of herself. If she couldn’t trust him, it would break his heart.

“Hello?”

“Wrong number.” He hung up. He wasn’t happy with his decision, but that’s what happened when you were in love. Not protecting her went against everything he believed in. He had to let this go because he respected Claire as much as he loved her.

The phone rang. Claire? Had she changed her mind?

“You know that I have caller ID, don’t you?”

Hank. Damn it.

Joe sighed. “Yeah.”

“Everything okay?”

Was it? He didn’t know. “No. Yes. Everything is okay.”

They hung up, and Joe did what he always did when his mind was cluttered. He got out his gun and shells. He would go to the range and pretend every shot was Keith going down.