Identity Crisis by Eliza Watson

Author:Eliza Watson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PublishDrive
Published: 2013-03-04T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Ethan parked the SUV in the inn’s lot, and Olivia hopped out. She marched to the back where the paintings were stashed.

“Open it up,” she demanded, glaring at the hatchback.

Ethan shook his head. “Not a good idea.”

“Fine. I’ll just crawl back there.”

She bolted over to the side door. She grabbed the door handle, and Ethan placed his hand over hers. His mere touch made her heart rate kick into overdrive. He heightened all her senses, except her common sense. She couldn’t think rationally around him.

He leaned in, mere inches from her face, lowering his voice. “You don’t want to confront them with the paintings.”

“I want to know how Kate and Roger allowed this to happen. Was it purely for the money? Why hadn’t they taken his crime seriously? It’d been serious enough to send their son and granddaughter into hiding.”

“This would be a pretty crappy way to introduce yourself to your grandparents. Not to mention you can’t confess your identity. Not yet. This isn’t just for your safety, but theirs. We don’t want the wrong people to find out you’re back.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, relaxing her grip on the door handle. A squeal pierced the air, and Ethan jerked his hand away from hers. Her gaze darted over to the lake where two little girls were splashing around in the water; a blond woman in a pink bikini lounged on a beach chair watching them.

Olivia headed toward the inn.

“Why are you going inside?” Ethan asked.

“Saw a brandy decanter in the den.”

“It’s not even noon.”

“Then I’ll just do a shot.” Her phone rang; it was Rachel. She glanced over at Ethan, walking to the side of the porch. “I need to take this.”

He nodded and walked inside as she answered the call.

“We’ve got a buyer for Trapeze Artist,” Rachel said excitedly. “How great is that? He called before we even opened.”

Olivia’s stomach clenched. She’d never returned the potential buyer’s voicemails over the past few days. Not because she thought the painting was a forgery—she’d just been busy.

She plastered on a smile and tried to sound enthusiastic. “Yeah, that’s great.”

If the painting was authentic.

But she couldn’t tell Rachel not to sell it. All she could do at this point was cross her fingers and pray. To have faith, like Ethan had said. To believe that her dad had loved her and would never have put her life or career in jeopardy. She had to hang on to that belief.

“Some guy’s standing outside the door waiting for me to open. Talk about anxious. Think I’m about to make another sale. Talk to you later.” Rachel disconnected.

The eerie feeling crawling across Olivia’s skin intensified when she noticed the sky over the lake had turned an ominous gritty brown color. A gust of wind blew sand up in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, her eyes watering. Several speedboats zipped across the lake heading toward shore. The two little girls were still splashing around in the water while the woman soaked up the rays hidden behind the surreal-looking sky.

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