Sophie Oak - One to Keep

“Would police have the painting?” Alexei asked, hoping that the answer was no. He knew why Renard had brought in the police. The idiot wanted to keep his business, and the best way to do it was to pin the crime on someone else. But he prayed the man had been smart enough not to allow the prize to become evidence.

“No, it was a different painting, I tell you,” Renard managed. “I hid it behind a different painting. I don’t know. All of her stuff looks alike to me. I prefer realism. Her stuff is mostly swirly colors meant to express emotion. I’ve been staring at her work for months, and I don’t get it. Sold a couple for her. Always the same buyer. He pays top dollar.”

Ivan frowned as he looked down. “Perhaps I hit him too hard.”

“You think?” Alexei shook his head. Ivan always hit them too hard. It made it very difficult to interrogate a victim when his teeth were stuck halfway down his throat. He started to point at Ivan, and noticed that his fingers had a fine coating of blue paint on them. The canvas was still slightly wet. “This artist, she works in here? What if she took the painting you need and begins a new one?” Renard’s eyes flared. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.

She has to have the painting. I tried to get into her place, but the police were there, and then some other people were there early this morning. I haven’t been able to get in.” If it was true, Alexei might still salvage this little mission. “This artist, she live close to here?”

Renard sagged, obviously pleased to have a few more moments of life left. His eyes were sparked with wild hope. “Yes, Jennifer lives on Good Latimer. I’ll take you there. That has to be where the painting is. I know it. I just know it. We might have to wait until the place is empty.”

Ivan smiled. “I will take care of anyone in our way.” But forty minutes later, Ivan neatly and efficiently took care of the only person in their way. Ivan slit Renard’s throat. It was quiet, and they weren’t worried about clean. The shag carpet beneath their feet was old, but quickly soaked up the blood.

There wasn’t a single painting in the apartment Renard had led them to. Alexei looked around. It was obvious to him that an artist lived here. There were easels and unframed, unpainted canvases.

There were half-used tools and oil paints all over the kitchen table.

There were brushes in a can in the bathroom. The whole bathroom smelled of chemicals.

“The boss is not going to like this.” Now that the mark was dead, Ivan shifted back to Russian.

Alexei followed suit. “He will be very angry.” Ivan started looking through the artist’s kitchen. “I need to find a good butcher knife. Pushkin will want us to at least bring back the head. I hate these international jobs, Alexei. It’s gotten so hard to get a decapitated head through an American airport. How much cash do you have? We will need to bribe someone.” He felt his deep groan rumble from his chest. This was a nightmare. “Pushkin will be even angrier we spent his cash on bribes, which is why we should attempt to offer him an alternative.”

“And what is that?”

Alexei glanced around the room. It was obvious the woman had left in a hurry. This woman either knew where the painting was, or knew who took it. He needed to find this woman, this Jennifer. There was an answering machine blinking by the phone. Curious, Alexei pushed the button. A cheery female voice came on.

“This is Jen. I’m not here, or I’m off in la-la land, so leave me a message.” There was a long beep and then another soft, feminine voice.

“Jen, it’s Callie. I can’t tell you happy I am Stef tracked you down, though I’m so sorry about the whole jail thing. Nate is coming to get you. You might not even get this message, but if you do, know that Zane and I will be waiting at the airport in Alamosa. I can’t wait to see you. I’m so happy you’re coming home. Bliss isn’t the same without you.”

“What is this Bliss?” Ivan asked.

Alexei looked around. “It is a place, I think. This Alamosa is where the artist has gone, and I think she took her canvases with her.

Perhaps she doesn’t know.”

“Or maybe she does and I have more work to do.” Ivan sounded like a man anticipating a treat.

Alexei stared down at the only framed picture in the whole house.

It was of two young women and an older female. There was a tall brunette with lovely, slender features. He would bet she was the artist.

There was a shorter but equally pretty woman with dark hair. The older woman was a blonde. She wore a shirt with dangling fringe, and a red cowboy hat sat atop her puffy hair.

He read the marking on the shirt the slender brunette wore.

Stella’s Café – Bliss, Colorado

If he was the smart man who managed to track down the painting Pushkin wanted, the boss would have to thank him personally. That would be the moment that Alexei avenged his brother.

“Call Pushkin. Tell him we are going to Colorado.”

Jen shivered as the door to the jet was opened and the February air hit her. She pulled Stefan’s coat around her. She turned to look at him. He was wearing a dress shirt and slacks. He must have been freezing, but the minute she began to shrug out of his coat he sent her a look colder than the wind outside. Jen stuck her tongue out at him and buttoned up the coat.

“Very mature, Jennifer,” Stef murmured as he gestured for her to go first.

She felt her spirit sag. That was the crux of their problems. He thought she was too young for him. It wasn’t like he was some old guy. He wasn’t even ten years older than she was. It also wasn’t like she’d asked him for marriage. She’d been in love with him. That didn’t necessarily lead to marriage. She’d seen her mother fall in and out of love. She had never pushed Stef for anything more than friendship and some sex. He seemed to think she was too young even for that.

Jen stood at the top of the stairs and looked down. One lone figure stood on the tarmac holding a handmade sign that said Welcome Back, Felon.

Callie Sheppard grinned as she held her sign up, and Jen felt tears fill her eyes.

“She missed you,” Nate said from behind her.

For the first time she thought about what she’d done when she’d snuck away from Bliss. She had meant to leave behind Stef and all their problems, but she’d done more than that. She’d left Callie and Stella and Rachel and Laura. She’d walked out on Mel and the Harper twins, and Zane and Nate. Tears flowed freely now as she took her wobbly first step down the staircase. She’d left the only place that had ever felt like home because she’d been too embarrassed to see Stef again.

Maybe he was right. Maybe she was too young. And maybe, just maybe, it was time to grow up.

Jen took hold of herself and rushed down the steps. She didn’t stop until she threw her arms around Callie.

“Hey!” Callie said. She dropped her sign. Her arms quickly enveloped Jen. “Hey, it’s okay, sweetie. It’s going to be okay. Don’t you worry about a thing. You’re home now.” Jen felt Callie smooth down the back of her hair, and she cried.

She didn’t care that everyone was watching. Now that she was standing here, she knew Callie was right. Everything would be fine because she was home.

“I’m sorry,” Jen managed after a moment. “I should never have left the way I did.”

“It’s okay,” Callie said softly. “You’re back now. That’s what matters.”

And that was Callie in a nutshell, Jen thought. Callie would never hold it against her. She would never withhold her affection. Her heart was open.

She felt another hand on her back, and she looked up at the sheriff. Nate Wright’s eyes were far softer now, and he nodded down at her.

“Callie’s right. It’s going to be okay. We won’t let you go back to jail. Stef is already working on getting the charges dropped. Let’s get the car and get out of this weather.” Jen took a step back, and Callie went on her toes trying to press her lips against her husband’s. Nate’s gloved hand came out to stop her. Callie’s lips made a little O.

“No can do, baby.” Nate shook his head as he stared down at her.

Callie pouted. Her hands went to her hips. She was drowning in a parka, her small, curvy body completely covered by her coat. “What did I do?”

“It wasn’t you. It was Stef,” Jen supplied, saving Nate the trouble.

“He needs his fake girlfriend again, and he doesn’t care that she’s already double married.”

Callie’s brown eyes widened. “What are you talking about? Oh my, Sebastian! And Stef! Why didn’t you call? And what are you doing without a coat?”

Callie stalked toward the plane where the Talbot men were disembarking. Jen stared at Nate. He had some explaining to do.

“Okay, where’s the big guy? I know you two have something awful cooked up for Stef.” There was no way Nathan Wright allowed his wife to be used in some cover-up.

A little smirk crossed Nate’s face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, darlin’. I’m just helping out an old friend. I am a very patient and tolerant man.”

“Since when?” The only person less patient than Nathan Wright was Max Harper. Nate was a notorious hard-ass, and the last thing Jen would expect him to do would be to allow his wife to pose as another man’s girlfriend.

One shoulder came up negligently. “You know this whole threesome thing works on several levels for us. It takes two men to keep Callie out of trouble, but more than that, I can always count on Zane to do the right thing.”

Jen listened to Nate talk, but her eyes were on Stef and Callie. She felt a sick pit of jealousy form in her gut as Stef wrapped his arms around Callie. She knew that it was all for show. She could see Stef whispering to her, probably begging her to play along, but it still hurt.