Page 76 of Family Affair

Willis raised his eyes and gave her a pensive regard. His blue eyes gave Coco shivers – they were a cold, clear blue and she was sure if she could touch them, the sensation would be like touching dry ice.

“According to his case file, Frank Sheffield and Steve Stark, the reporter, got into a fight. Not surprising, if you are aware of Frank Sheffield’s long list of assault offenses. By the way, he had to also answer for some of those during his trial. Brawling, disturbing peace, all that good stuff. Anyway, Stark fell during their fight and hit his head on a granite countertop, which resulted in his death. I’d say, too accidental for a straight up murder, but of course, Frank Sheffield’s true intent remained undetermined.”

Be it as it may for Detective Willis, it was major news for Coco. Knowing Frank wasn’t guilty of a heinous crime of premeditated murder brought tears of relief to her eyes.

She quit pretending her interest in the muffin and shoved her unfinished plate aside to Willis’s visible relief. The air conditioner inside the place worked nonstop, and the chilled air had cooled her damp skin to the point of freezing.

“I never knew any of that. Dan and I talked very little about his family,” she admitted.

Willis didn’t press. “Alright. What about Cade Sheffield, has he ever mentioned Ward Williamson’s name to you?”

“No. Why would he?”

“Because they knew each other. Williamson had known the brothers since birth. He had been their father’s close friend.”

“Ah. Well, I had no idea. Neither Dan nor Cade mentioned Williamson to me.” She was no longer interested to hear more questions.

Willis harrumphed and, shifting in his chair, withdrew a phone from the case at his belt. Turning the device on, he extended it screen-up for Coco’s inspection. “Have you seen this painting before?”

She leaned for a closer look, surprised at the seemingly unrelated question. One glance, and she knew what she was looking at.

This was a pivotal moment after which she would be dividing her life on before and after. She knew it in her bones. And in this split of a second, she made her decision.

“No, I’ve never seen it.”

“Are you sure?” His glacial eyes were intent on Coco, no doubt cataloguing the slightest changes in her facial expression.

She looked back, her expression giving away nothing because a strange icy calm descended on her, freezing her face.

“No,” she repeated firmly. “I’ve never seen it.”

“You are an artist, aren’t you? This is a very distinct piece. Would you recognize it if you saw it?”

“I think so. The drawing looks like something from Jackson Pollock’s repertoire.” She withdrew into her chair.

Willis inclined his head. “Bravo, Ms. Milroy. I’m impressed. ItisJackson Pollock. At least, we are led to believe it’s him.”

“What’s the title?”

“Untitled. But then you must already know that some of his works are, especially the drawings.”

“Was it stolen from a museum?”

Willis folded his hands on the table. “It isn't museum quality work. It’s a fake.”

Coco smiled, “I’m sure current technology will make a short work of determining that. Just send it to the lab.”

Willis regarded her for a moment, somewhat surprised at having this paint-smudged woman in a floppy sun hat telling him what to do. “I would, if I had the painting.”

“It’s a drawing.”

“Yes, drawing, thanks for correcting me. We recovered a recent picture of it from Ward Williamson’s phone, but the actualdrawingwas not found at his residence.”

Shivers danced on her cooled skin. “As in, there’s a link between the fake drawing and his… murder?”

Willis gave her a long look. “Wouldn't be Williamson’s first rodeo. He had escaped allegations of running a forgery ring with Frank Sheffield all those years ago, but barely. And now this. Where there’s smoke, they say… ”

Coco listened with mounting disbelief. “That’s… Ward Williamson? Fake art? Frank Sheffield?”