The Stroke of Winter by Webb Wendy

Author:Webb, Wendy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lake Union Publishing
Published: 2022-11-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

After finishing their meals and bundling up, Tess helped Joe into the car. He dozed during the drive back to Wharton—Tess supposed that was common at his age.

As they drove, Tess remembered her father had changed the combination to the wall safe. She’d need that if Joe was going to get a look at the paintings. She grabbed her phone and texted her dad, not wanting to wake up Joe.

Dad, I need the combination to the wall safe.

Why?

I want to take a quick look at a couple of them. I’ll put them right back and text you when I’ve done it.

She didn’t tell him about showing the paintings to Joe. Her father had been so adamant about nobody else seeing them, that bit of information caught in her throat.

He didn’t text back right away. Tess sat there staring at her screen. She should’ve thought of this before they headed out of Salmon Bay. They might be making the drive for nothing.

She looked at Wyatt. “I need the combination to the safe,” she said, her voice low. “Otherwise . . .”

Wyatt nodded, understanding. He pulled the car onto a side road, and they waited for a moment. And then, it came. A complicated series of numbers, letters, and symbols, along with a message.

Honey, while you have them out, will you take photos of each one and send them to me? Front and back, please. Dying to see what they look like.

Sure, Dad.

She should have done that immediately, she thought.

Also, I contacted Bill Parsons and adjusted the home insurance to account for the paintings being there.

Insurance! She hadn’t even thought of it.

Tess responded, “Got it,” to Wyatt before he pulled back onto the road. But that exchange with her father rattled around in Tess’s head for the rest of the drive. Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on quite what.

Joe stirred when they pulled into the driveway. He looked out of the window and smiled. “The old town looks the same,” he sang. Tess knew it was a line to an old song she had heard her dad sing from time to time.

She and Wyatt helped the old man into the house, then shook the cold off their coats and hung them up in the entryway.

“Look at this good boy,” Joe said, scratching Storm behind his ears. The dog happily curled around him.

“Pop is great with animals,” Wyatt said.

“This is one good dog right here,” Joe said. “He reminds me of a dog Sebastian had, back in the old days.”

“Is that so?” Tess asked.

“A white dog. Just like this one. He used to walk the dog all around town. At all hours.”

A tingle snaked its way down Tess’s spine. So that was how he got a look in people’s windows.

“Can I offer you gentlemen anything? Tea? Coffee?” she asked.

Joe’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a beer?”

Tess glanced at Wyatt. The old man had had one at the restaurant. Should he have another?

“Why not?” Wyatt said. “I’ll have one, too.

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